


Thin Air

by Kimberius



Category: ST:TOS, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst, Bonding, Court Martial episode mentioned, Discussion about anal sex, First Orgasm, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Frottage, Gol fix-it, Hurt Kirk, Hurt/Comfort, Love, M/M, Mind Melding, Pining, Protective Spock, Space Husbands, Turnabout Intruder episode mentioned, Virgin Spock, Vulcan Telepathy, good communication, k/s - Freeform, spirk, t’hy’la, whump Kirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:24:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24460462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimberius/pseuds/Kimberius
Summary: The captain is dying of oxygen deprivation on a barren planet. Unable to save him, Spock mind melds with him for comfort, only to find that Jim’s hypoxic mind is already comforting itself with beautiful fantasies… of Spock as his lover and bondmate.Will they have the courage to turn Jim’s dream into reality after they are rescued and the captain has recovered?Hint: Yes, they will… following many pages of angsty introspection, self-doubt, intimate conversations, and mind melding. ;-)
Relationships: TOS Kirk/Spock
Comments: 35
Kudos: 173





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This Gol fix-it story takes place in the last year of their original 5-year mission. It spans only two days and focuses on Kirk and Spock’s private thoughts, separately and when melded/bonded. Spock sees in Jim’s dying mind that he wants him sexually, and since Jim knows what Spock has seen, denying it becomes pointless. ;-) 
> 
> Scenes include:
> 
> planetside on Verona 3 - Kirk and Spock
> 
> transporter room - Kirk, Spock, Bones, Scotty
> 
> Sickbay - Kirk, Spock, Bones, M’Benga, Christine
> 
> Spock’s quarters - Spock 
> 
> the Enterprise’s chapel - funeral attendees
> 
> rec room - Spock and gossiping crewmen
> 
> the bridge - Kirk, Spock, Uhura, Sulu, Chekov
> 
> Kirk’s quarters - Kirk and Spock

**THIN AIR**

by Kimberius

Jim began to crumple toward Spock, helpless to remain sitting up. Spock eased his captain’s head down slowly, offering his upper thigh to support Jim’s neck. Lying in Spock’s lap, Jim’s head lolled toward his first officer’s body, his temple resting against the blue velour of his shirt. The captain looked up at his friend and Spock could see the fear in his eyes. When Jim realized Spock had seen, he crimped his eyes shut.

Spock laid his hand on Jim’s chest. His breathing was getting shallow.

“Breathe deeply, Jim,” he reminded.

Kirk gave a slight nod and filled his lungs to capacity. It was becoming too much effort for the tiny number of oxygen molecules it earned him. It wasn’t going to be enough to keep him awake and alert much longer, even lying down, Jim realized. He lifted his hand and placed it over Spock’s on his chest as a silent thank you for the prompt. His thinking was growing fuzzy and he felt so weak. Speaking was no longer possible. 

Jim sensed that Spock was urging him again to take another full breath, but the blood was rushing through his ears so loudly now he couldn’t hear Spock’s words. His heart was beating uncomfortably fast in a desperate bid to move oxygenated blood through his body, but it was in vain; his human lungs just could not extract enough precious oxygen from Verona 3’s thin atmosphere.

 _I’m succumbing to hypoxia,_ Jim thought helplessly. _I’m dying. Half of the landing party is dead and Spock and I are next. Spock._

Even a Vulcan couldn’t survive here very long without Tri-Ox compound, and their entire supply had been lost in the accident that claimed the lives of their crew mates. The Enterprise was still out of communications range. Kirk pushed his starving brain to the limit, trying to find a way to cheat death like he had so many times in the past, but he could feel his faculties slipping, his sharp mind dulling. Jim knew the feeling of suffocation. He’d felt it before, when Khan cut off life support to the bridge… when his spacesuit ran out of oxygen in Tholian space… when Spock cinched the ahn-woon tighter and tighter around his neck….

 _Spock_. Spock was trying to tell him something.

“Jim! You MUST fill your lungs.” 

Kirk could feel the rumbling urgency in his first officer’s deep voice, though he couldn’t understand his words anymore. As his last lucid act, he took the biggest breath he could manage and pulled Spock’s hand up to his face, silently requesting a meld.

Spock understood what Kirk wanted, but not why. Jim wasn’t a Vulcan. He had no katra to capture. His captain was dying and Spock had no way to collect and preserve everything he was. Did Jim think that he could somehow? Perhaps he’d come up with a solution at the 11th hour, a way to save himself, and needed to communicate it to Spock. Or maybe he simply desired a final farewell… the comfort of his presence in his mind one last time. In a few minutes his closest friend would be gone. Whatever Jim wanted, Spock would give it.

“My mind to your mind…” he recited when his fingers had found their positions on Jim’s ashen face. Cradling his captain’s head in his lap, Spock slipped quickly into his mind, prepared for what he thought would be the frantic mental scramblings of a drowning man, but he found Jim calm, his brain already experiencing the merciful euphoria of advanced oxygen deprivation.

_Jim. I am here._

_Here to save me?_ Kirk asked hopefully.

Spock’s heart clenched. If only he could.

_I was in some kind of danger… a moment ago… but now I can’t seem to remember what it was. Have you already saved me, Spock?_

_I am here with you,_ was all Spock could think to reply.

Jim hummed in contentment. _You are always at my side, Spock, like you always have been and always will be. Do you remember when Edith Keeler said that?_

 _I do,_ Spock replied.

At lightning speed, hundreds of moments of their life together flashed through Jim’s mind. All were memories that Spock also possessed, but from Jim’s perspective. It was startling. Spock had long-known that his captain held him in high esteem and placed great value on their friendship, but the raw affection flowing through the meld surprised him. Jim adored him. Thinking of Spock was what Jim’s dying mind was choosing to do with its last moments. 

In his euphoric state, Jim wasn’t sure if Spock were really there or not, but he felt comforted anyway and spoke to the vivid images of his dear friend that were running through his mind.

_Oh, Spock. I love you. I meant to tell you. Did I ever?_

Then, to soothe himself, Jim sank deeper into his memories of their friendship. No, not memories, Spock realized. Fantasies… imaginings. Spock saw Jim’s fondest dreams swirling through his dying mind. In his captain’s private world, the two of them were lovers. Spock watched, fascinated, as Jim softly kissed him, caressing his face and hands so gently. Spock was shocked to see himself undressing the captain and greedily running his hands all over his beautiful, golden body. He was spellbound listening to the lovers whispering words of desire and devotion to one another as they lay wrapped safely in each other’s arms on the captain’s narrow bed. Spock marveled at the expression on his angular face as Jim imagined it, soft and open, radiating contentment.

 _Do you love me, Spock?_ Jim asked his Vulcan lover.

 _You know I do,_ dream-Spock responded in a passionate whisper. He held Kirk in a tight embrace, one leg wrapped over his hip, allowing all of his feelings to flow freely through the bond they enjoyed.

Spock was captivated by the scene, drawn in to the point that he forgot for a moment that his friend was dying. _Jim wants to bond with me,_ he marveled. He had longed to feel this close to Jim, be this uninhibited with him, but could never visualize in his logical mind what Jim’s human mind apparently imagined so easily.

 _Ahhh, Spock. You’re such a comfort,_ Jim told his fantasy lover as he pressed his face into Spock’s neck. _I feel so warm._

Spock felt it, too… a heat, a tingling. The blissful scene before his mind’s eye began to quaver, as though the lovers’ bodies were being pulled apart at the atomic level and scattered to the wind. With a sudden jolt, Spock remembered that Jim’s brain was starving, his neuronal ions were de-polarizing. Death was imminent. Soon everything his captain was, everything he thought and dreamed, would be lost to the cosmos.

In a burst of anguish and self-preservation, Spock tore himself from Jim’s disintegrating mind; but once he was separate again, the sensation of heat and molecular agitation remained. It was spreading through Spock’s whole body. His eyes snapped open just in time to see the barren Veronese landscape dissolve around him.

_The transporter beam! Rescue!_

Spock glanced down at the precious weight in his lap with a thrill of hope that Jim could still be revived. His captain’s lips were blue and his face was white as chalk. There was no time.

***

As the Enterprise’s transporter room appeared and the beam released them, Spock leaned back on his arms to make up for the rock that was no longer propping up his back. He felt faint and forced himself to take a large breath of the ship’s oxygenated air so he wouldn’t lose consciousness. He could still see, but bright lights were bursting in his peripheral vision and his limbs felt numb.

Dr. McCoy came rushing at them, tearing Jim’s uniform sleeve in dramatic fashion as he sometimes did in emergencies, and pressed a hypospray full of Tri-Ox into Jim’s pale shoulder. He pushed a second pre-filled hypo into Spock’s arm, through his shirt. 

McCoy’s worried eyes returned to Kirk, who wasn’t showing any signs yet of coming around. He lay on the transporter platform with his head in Spock’s lap as pale and lifeless as he had been a moment before.

“Jim!” Bones called, slapping the captain’s cheek lightly with one hand while scanning his head and chest with the other. 

The scanner showed a very faint heartbeat that was growing steadily stronger with the infusion of oxygen. Now it was the brain readings that concerned McCoy the most.

“How long has he been like this?” Bones demanded of Spock. 

Spock knew how important it was to give the doctor an accurate accounting of time, but the truth was he had no clear idea how long he had been in Jim’s mind. It could be a few minutes or only a few seconds. 

Instead of guessing, Spock offered, “There may be brain damage. I was in mental contact with the captain when the transporter locked onto us. I believe his neuronal ions were beginning to de-polarize.”

“Where’s that gurney?!” Bones shouted angrily at Scotty, who seemed frozen at the transporter controls.

“On its way,” Scotty replied. Jarred to action, the engineer shot around the console and offered his help.

“Pull off his boots and socks,” McCoy commanded and Scotty did as he was told without question, while the doctor quickly filled two more hyposprays with liquids from his med kit and checked Jim’s pupil response. Bones’ face told Spock what he already knew: the situation was dire.

Another hypo hissed into Jim’s arm. “Quint-Ox is indicated when death of brain tissue is suspected,” Bones explained, “… and THIS one is to prevent any further damage due to swelling.” He delivered the third hypo to Jim’s temple.

Grabbing a heart stimulator from his kit and waving it over Kirk’s chest, McCoy told Scotty, “Run your thumbnail up the sole of his foot, heel to toe.”

Scotty complied, his face reflecting the fear they all were feeling. “No reaction,” he reported. 

“Are his toenails showing any color?” Bones asked, inspecting Jim’s fingernails himself. 

At first Scotty shook his head, but a moment later he noticed the nail beds of Kirk’s big toes had a mauve blush to them that wasn’t there before. Bones was seeing the same thing in his fingernails.

Just then the gurney arrived with two apologizing corpsmen.

“I don’t wanna hear it! Just lift him and get him to Sickbay STAT!” McCoy bellowed.

As Jim was lifted from his lap, Spock tried to stand and found he couldn’t. The nerves in his extremities were on fire now with oxygenated blood coursing into every starved capillary. So focused he had been on Jim that he hadn’t noticed his own body’s peril. Now, he was recovering, but his limbs were still in that painful middle stage between numbness and full functionality. He swung his legs over the edge of the transporter platform and sat still, waiting for his body’s signal that he could successfully stand up.

McCoy looked back over his shoulder at Spock before he dashed out following the gurney. “You gonna be okay, Spock?”

Spock nodded. “I shall be in Sickbay momentarily.”

Bones accepted that and was gone, leaving Spock and Mr. Scott alone in the eerie quiet that followed. Neither man spoke. 

Spock’s face showed no outward signs of distress, but he wasn’t standing up, so Scotty sat down beside him on the edge of the transporter platform. The engineer began meticulously rolling the captain’s black socks into two perfect balls, which he placed carefully into each boot.

“We shouldna gone off an’ left ya down there like that,” Scotty lamented. “We thought ya had plenty o’ Tri-Ox with ya.”

“We did, Mr. Scott. There was an accident and it was lost… along with Ensigns Josten and Brentmayer, whose bodies will need to be recovered.”

“Aye. We found ‘em with our scanners. Two bodies. Deep in that ravine they were… are… nearly half o’ mile below the surface o’ the planet. Then we found the captain’s faint life signs and yours….” 

Scotty wanted to express his relief that Mr. Spock and Captain Kirk were the two who had survived, but he held his tongue. Crewmen had died after all, and the captain’s life was still in jeopardy. Asking how the two ensigns managed to fall to their deaths also seemed inappropriate. He could read the report soon enough.

“Are ya feelin’ any better yet, Mr. Spock?” Scotty asked when they had been sitting there for three, maybe four minutes and Spock had not tried to stand. 

“Yes, Mr. Scott. My limbs were ‘asleep.’ When the sensation has sufficiently abated, I shall proceed to Sickbay.”

“Ah, the ol’ pins an’ needles,” Scotty said knowingly. “I understand.”

Mr. Scott wanted to get the bodies of the fallen up to the ship, but that could wait a few more minutes if Spock needed time to recover. 

Ninety seconds later, Spock stood cautiously. His legs still hurt, but he could suppress the pain. It was the numbness that had put him in danger of falling, and it was 85% gone. Bright bursts of light no longer danced in his peripheral vision.

“Do ya want me to walk with ya, Mr. Spock?” Scotty offered kindly. 

“Unnecessary. Please direct your efforts toward the recovery of the bodies, Mr. Scott. Contact me in Sickbay, if needed.”

“Aye, Mr. Spock,” Scotty said as the Vulcan moved toward the door. “When there is word on Captain Kirk, please….”

“I shall keep you apprised,” Spock said.

“Thank ya, Sir,” the engineer called after him as the transporter room’s door whooshed shut.

***

Sickbay was a busy place when Spock arrived. He stepped quickly to a corner where he could observe without being in the way. Jim was still unconscious, but had pinked-up nicely since the transporter room. His biobed’s monitor displayed a mostly normal heartbeat and circulation, but brain activity was below normal. That was clearly the topic of concern in the room. 

Dr. M’Benga strode in suddenly from McCoy’s office where he’d been doing some quick computer research on treatments for hypoxic encephalopathy. He stepped close to McCoy to confer. Spock was several feet away from them, but could easily overhear their discussion. It sounded like they had a plan. When he heard his name mentioned, he approached.

“Spock, we’re going to need your help communicating with Jim,” McCoy said.

Spock raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Our scans show there is damage to his brain’s speech centers, and we have confirmation of this because Jim woke briefly before you arrived and couldn’t speak or understand speech. He was getting agitated, so I put him back under until we could come up with a treatment plan.”

Spock glanced at Jim. He was within arm’s reach of him now and Spock had to fight the impulse to reach out and touch his friend’s hand. He regretted not being here when Jim woke up.

McCoy continued, “His memory engrams seem to be intact, thank God, and I’ve already corrected the slight de-polarization in other areas of his brain, but the speech centers are a bit trickier. They were hardest hit.”

“We’re going to have to induce a coma for 12 hours, perhaps longer,” M’Benga explained. “Before we do that, you could help us by performing a _shad pafam’es linisaya_ … an examination of brain function,” he said, turning briefly to Nurse Chapel whose expression showed confusion. “It will help us pinpoint any other problematic areas and refine the treatment for best results.”

Dr. M’Benga had interned on Vulcan and witnessed a variety of telepathic techniques that were practiced in conjunction with medicine there. He was aware of them, but as a non-telepath could not perform them. Spock was the only telepath on the Enterprise and Dr. M’Benga intended to utilize the resources he had. 

“Will you do it, Mr. Spock?” M’Benga entreated.

“Of course,” Spock agreed. “I am familiar with the captain’s mind…”

“…and knowing his baseline, you’ll be able to gauge if there’s any damage to areas other than his speech centers?” McCoy interrupted.

“I should be able to, yes,” Spock confirmed.

McCoy shot a grateful look at M’Benga for thinking of this option. Then, he turned back to Spock.

“Also, I’d like you to explain to Jim our treatment plan, since I can’t make him understand it verbally,” McCoy added. “Calm him if you can, Spock. Reassure him that we can heal the damage. In 12 hours, he should be right as rain.”

Spock nodded, not letting his expression betray the extreme relief he felt.

“What is your condition, Mr. Spock, are you well enough for this yet? Do you need a few moments?” M’Benga asked.

“We can proceed.” Spock stepped closer to Jim.

“Here… I’ll bring him around,” McCoy said, pressing a hypo into the captain’s bare arm. His uniform shirt had been removed and Jim rested peacefully beneath a gold and orange quilted sheet pulled up to the middle of his chest under his arms. 

When his eyes began to flutter, everyone gathered closer. Jim awoke to see Spock and McCoy standing together to the left of his bedside and M’Benga and Christine on his right. M’Benga looked grim, but then he always looked grim. Christine was smiling, so Jim smiled back. This seemed to please her. She started speaking, but he couldn’t understand her. He turned to Spock and McCoy for answers, tried to ask a question, but couldn’t coordinate his lips and tongue to speak. Worry filled his eyes. 

Bones touched his shoulder and was clearly attempting words of comfort, but Jim didn’t understand. He reached for Spock. Spock always had answers. 

The Vulcan’s low baritone rumbled in his ears as he took his hand. Jim looked up into Spock’s eyes and tried harder to concentrate, but it was no use. Spock might as well have been speaking Vulcan. Jim couldn’t understand him.

Kirk’s heart rate began increasing. The monitor displayed it visually and audibly. Spock was eager to relieve his confusion and distress. He placed the hand Jim wasn’t holding on his captain’s face and positioned his fingertips for a meld. Jim understood and consented with two quick nods.

 _I am here, Jim. Do not worry,_ Spock said after slipping effortlessly into his captain’s mind.

_Spock. I can understand you now. Why couldn’t I before? What’s wrong with me?_

_Nothing that cannot be corrected,_ Spock assured.

Jim relaxed at that.

 _Do you remember the events on Verona 3?_ Spock asked to gauge whether Kirk’s recent memories were intact before he mentioned suffocation or brain damage.

 _Yes,_ Jim said soberly. _We lost Josten and Brentmayer._

 _Correct,_ Spock confirmed, … _and the supply of Tri-Ox compound Ensign Josten was carrying. Do you remember losing consciousness due to oxygen deprivation?_

_Yes. We sat down by some rocks to conserve energy, but after 15 minutes or so, I couldn’t sit up anymore or stay awake. I remember you prompting me to breathe, but I passed out and then I was here… and I couldn’t talk or understand Bones._

_Dr. McCoy revived you, but prolonged hypoxia injured your brain’s speech centers, affecting your ability to produce and understand speech. I am here to look for any other damage and explain the doctors’ treatment plan to you,_ Spock informed him. _May I conduct an extensive search of your mind, Jim? It will be more intrusive than what you are used to._

Kirk only hesitated for a moment. _It’s okay, Spock. Do what you need to do. I’m fine with it. Thanks for helping me. Was this your idea or M’Benga’s?_

 _Dr. M’Benga’s,_ Spock answered.

 _Give that man a cigar,_ Jim joked.

The captain’s eyes were closed now and his face expressionless, but his heart rate had come down to normal, so the doctors and Christine assumed Spock had delivered his message. They would wait patiently until the Vulcan emerged from the meld and reported his findings.

Kirk could feel Spock moving swiftly through his mind, inspecting his memories and knowledge. Perhaps he should have been worried that Spock would find uncorrectable damage somewhere or deeply hidden secrets even he forgot he had… but all he could feel was delight. The pleasure of having Spock in his mind drowned out any worry. 

They had been melding “recreationally” for a few months now, enjoying the experience of sharing their thoughts and perceptions telepathically. Spock shielded quite a bit and never delved deeper into Jim’s mind than he was comfortable with. They both found it satisfying. It was a rare human who got to experience the very intimate feeling of telepathy and Jim felt very lucky that Spock trusted him enough to share himself in that way during their off-duty time.

 _You were in my mind on the planet, weren’t you, Spock?_ Jim asked, as his friend continued to move around his mental landscape like a soft breeze.

 _Yes_ , Spock confirmed. _You requested a meld. You were disoriented and wanted…_

_…comfort. I remember. I thought I was dying._

_You were._

A chill ran through the meld. Jim felt Spock’s anguish at nearly losing him.

_You were dying with me. You were staying with me right to the end, weren’t you, Spock?_

_I was trying to, yes._

_That must be why I wasn’t afraid. I just remember feeling safe and… happy to be with you._

_You were hypoxic. Feelings of wellbeing are typical in a brain with low oxygen levels. You were creating images to comfort yourself._

_That wasn’t you, Spock? It felt like you._

_You were creating images of ME._

Spock was playing with fire and he knew it. Jim clearly didn’t remember imagining them as lovers. Why was he pushing it? He told himself he needed to ensure that all of Jim’s memories were intact.

 _Did our life pass before my eyes?_ Jim joked.

_It did, actually. I experienced a rapid series of your memories, followed by…_

_By what?_ Jim prompted, sensing his friend’s hesitancy.

Spock had stored the scene from Jim’s dying mind in perfect detail. Should he show him? Perhaps they should discuss it another time, when Jim was well… or not at all.

 _What are you hiding from me, Spock?_ Jim asked teasingly with mock-exasperation, and before Spock knew it, he was allowing the images to flow freely through the meld.

Jim wasn’t as mortified as Spock expected.

 _Oh_ , was all he said. He seemed more sad than embarrassed to be ‘caught’ fantasizing about his first officer. 

When Jim failed to offer further comment, Spock asked, _Are these imaginings a wish, Jim? Is a pair-bond relationship with me something you desire?_

Jim couldn’t name what he was sensing from Spock, but at least it wasn’t disgust.

 _My mind enjoys thinking about it, yes,_ Jim admitted, _especially when I’m in need of comfort or strength… but I don’t suppose the reality of it could fit with our lives._

 _I suppose not,_ Spock echoed, at a momentary loss for how best to respond.

To let Spock know he didn’t need him to say anything more on the matter, Kirk changed the subject. _So, have you found any damage to my brain other than the speech centers?_

_No, Sir._

_Are you finished looking?_

_I am._

_So, what is the treatment plan you were supposed to brief me on?_ Jim asked.

_Dr. McCoy intends to put you in a coma for a minimum of 12 hours, while he heals the damage… by what means, I do not know. That is HIS purview. He seems confident the procedure will be successful and asked me to relay his assurances._

_Hm, okay_ , Kirk consented. _Take care of the ship for me, Spock. I know you will._

 _Of course, Captain,_ Spock said. 

_Have the crewmen’s bodies been recovered?_ Jim asked.

 _Mr. Scott has located them and probably has them aboard by now,_ Spock reasoned.

 _If I’m going to be incapacitated for the next 12 hours, can you notify their families for me, Spock?_ Kirk had delegated this unpleasant task to his first officer before and was pleased by how much sensitivity and compassion his ‘emotionless’ friend had shown.

_Certainly, Captain._

Then, wanting Jim to know their friendship was solid despite the private fantasies he’d seen, Spock added, _I can arrange to be here when you wake… I would like to be._

Jim sent all of his warmth and good feelings for his friend through the meld. _Yes, please. But remember it’s a HUMAN coma, Spock, not a Vulcan one, so no slapping me back to consciousness, all right?_ Kirk joked, _although I probably deserve a good slap… or possibly a right cross._

_You do not, Captain._

_You’re very generous with me, Mr. Spock. I’m sorry I thought of you that way, if I haven’t said so yet._

_No apology is necessary, Jim. I was surprised, but not offended. My mind does not create images of sexual fantasy… but if it did, YOU would likely be the subject._

That was quite an admission. It stunned Kirk to silence and made his heart swell.

_Jim, I am honored it was me you thought of in what you believed to be your final moments. I have noted in the past that whenever MY life is in jeopardy, my thoughts turn to YOU, unless I take steps to prevent it._

Kirk and Spock’s friendship was closer than most; they had acknowledged this to each other before. Jim was relieved that his friend seemed inclined to let him off the hook for sexualizing him in his private thoughts.

 _Jim, in the images your mind created, our intertwined bodies are symbolic of the fidelity and protectiveness we feel for each other._

Only Spock would analyze Jim’s illicit daydreams like they were works of art and forgive this folly in such a gracious, poetic way.

 _Well, still, I never intended them to be something you would see, Spock… and now they’ll be in that perfect memory of yours for the rest of your life,_ Jim said, apologetically. _Could you delete them, or block them out of your consciousness somehow?_

 _I could,_ Spock replied, … _or I could treasure them as a gift from your heart. I choose the latter._

Christine spotted a tear rolling out from under Kirk’s closed eyelid, then another. She pointed it out to McCoy, who’d had his back turned, working.

“Blasted Vulcan! What’s he getting Jim all stirred up about? This is no cake walk, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Jim doesn’t need to be worried.” 

“Maybe they’re talking about something else,” Christine suggested. 

“Well I wish Spock would wrap it up. I haven’t got all day,” McCoy complained. 

Dr. M’Benga came back from McCoy’s office holding out a tape from the medical library. 

“This protocol fits the level of damage the captain’s speech centers have sustained,” he announced. “We’ll have to amend it, though, if Spock’s shad pafam’es linisaya reveals other injuries.”

“That won’t be necessary, Doctor. The captain’s brain is free of other injuries,” Spock declared as he stood to full height, his fingertips sliding from Kirk’s face. Jim opened his eyes and smiled up at him.

“You’re certain, Spock?” McCoy asked.

“Indeed, Doctor. I was very thorough.”

“You were in there long enough…,” Bones protested. 

Jim turned his gaze to McCoy.

“You okay, Jim? Did Spock explain everything to you?” Bones asked as though Kirk could understand speech. 

“The captain has been fully briefed and consents to the treatment plan,” Spock answered for him. “Has anything changed?”

McCoy shook his head. Somehow it seemed rude to talk when the captain couldn’t understand them or reply. He gestured for M’Benga to insert the library tape into the computer. The protocol was quickly downloaded and the instructions transferred to the small, flashing metal instrument McCoy held in his hands. After checking the adjustments, he stepped closer to the bed on the opposite side from Spock and laid his hand on Kirk’s shoulder. Giving Jim a big, confident smile, he placed the small metal device on his forehead and whispered, “Nighty-night.”

Jim’s eyes closed and his face went blank. One final tear slipped down over his temple and Christine unobtrusively reached for a cloth and dried the side of his face. She was curious what had made him cry but knew better than to ask Mr. Spock. 

The captain wouldn’t be feeling anything now for awhile; an induced coma was just like missing time, a good night’s sleep but without any REM cycles.

“If you have no further need of me, Dr. McCoy, I shall return to duty,” Spock said, casting one last look at Jim.

“Not so fast there, Spock. Hop up on Biobed 2 and let me give you a quick once-over.”

“I assure you I am fully recovered, Doctor.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Bones snapped, gesturing for Spock to comply.

Spock knew from long experience that defying the doctor only brought out the man’s ire and made him dig in his heels deeper, so he compliantly stretched himself out on Biobed 2 and endured Bones’ poking and prodding until he was satisfied. 

“All right, Spock. You can get up. You’re fit for duty,” McCoy said, then added, “I’m making a note in my medical log: In the future, all members of landing parties to thin-aired planets will carry their OWN supply of Tri-Ox compound ON THEIR PERSONS.”

“A wise change in protocol,” Spock agreed.

“Josten was a good kid,” Bones said reverently, shaking his head. The young man had been a member of McCoy’s medical staff, a fine biology lab tech. 

“I’m sorry he wasn’t there for you when you needed him,” Bones said. “I should have gone myself.”

“Then, you would be at the bottom of a ravine, Doctor,” Spock said logically.

“How did it happen, Spock?” McCoy asked gently, wanting to know before Spock left Sickbay.

“The ground near the edge of a deep chasm read as solid and stable, but it suddenly gave way beneath Ensign Josten and the captain.”

“The captain?” Bones questioned.

“Yes. Brentmayer lunged for Josten and was pulled over the edge. I grabbed for the captain and was successful in pulling him up,” Spock explained.

“Oh,” McCoy said. _Leave it to Spock to understate his heroism_ , he thought.

“My goodness!” Christine exclaimed. “Then the captain almost died TWICE today.”

Spock cocked his head in realization. He hadn’t thought of it that way until now. 

Before he returned to duty, Spock asked McCoy, “Shall I set the funerals for Ensigns Brentmayer and Josten for tomorrow afternoon? Will the captain be able to officiate by then?”

Bones blew out a breath and nodded. “Yeah, he should be. He’ll wake from this therapy tomorrow morning around 07:30. Won’t be fresh as a daisy, mind you, since there are no REM cycles during an induced coma, but he oughta be sufficiently recovered to get through the day all right. He’ll need to turn in early tomorrow night is all.”

Spock nodded in acknowledgment.

“You wanna be here when I wake him up, Spock?” McCoy asked.

“Please notify me if there is any change in schedule. Otherwise, I will return at 07:30. Do not proceed until I am present,” Spock instructed.

Something about his orders was making Christine smile. She smiled frequently with very little provocation, so Spock decided it was unworthy of analysis. His mind was already occupied formulating a public announcement to the crew about the captain’s condition, making funeral arrangements, planning a conversation with Mr. Scott, organizing the data collected from Verona 3, and composing condolence letters to Brentmayer and Josten’s families.

Focused on his duties, Spock took his leave and strode out of Sickbay.

Bones turned back to his team. “Well, gang, it looks like we’re actually gonna pull this off.” He clapped his hands together and rocked up on his toes then back on his heels, as he often did when he was particularly pleased with himself. There were smiles all around, even from M’Benga.

McCoy slapped his colleague on the back. “Helluva good idea, Geoff, thinking of using Spock for the shad pofam… pafam… what did you call it?” 

“The shad pafam’es linisaya,” M’Benga supplied. “I’m just glad Mr. Spock was willing to perform it.”

“To help the captain? Of course he was!” Christine said.

Bones squeezed his patient’s big toe affectionately through the orange sheet. “Jim Boy, I swear you’ve got 9 lives! You’re one lucky son-of-a-gun.”

… _lucky to have Spock’s talents and devotion,_ Christine thought to herself. She was already looking forward to seeing the Vulcan again tomorrow at 07:30, though she knew his eyes would only be on the captain.


	2. Chapter 2

**THIN AIR**

by Kimberius

As a Vulcan, Spock rarely felt fatigued or emotionally drained, but after several hours of performing his duties and the captain’s, it was deep into the ship’s night and he was starting to think a period of rest in his quarters would be welcome. The days before Verona 3 had been busy ones and he had opted for very little sleep. It was catching up with him now and his concentration was becoming sub-optimal.

Jim’s sexual imaginings kept intruding on Spock’s thoughts. He found himself wanting to look at them again, examine them… enjoy them. He headed to his cabin.

After a long day, the privacy of his quarters always felt agreeable. He removed his uniform and prepared for a sonic shower like he had a thousand times before. But as he opened the shower door, his reflection in the bathroom mirror caught his attention like it rarely did. 

_Jim wants you,_ the mirror seemed to whisper to him. _He wants you for his lover, for his bondmate_.

Spock stopped where he was and turned toward the mirror, examining his body, evaluating the sexual attractiveness of the Vulcan who stared back at him, wondering why Jim would daydream of him the way he had. 

If he were honest with himself, he had already suspected before Verona 3 that Jim loved him. He loved Jim, too, though he hadn’t ever said so. They were close, but he never imagined that Jim desired the kind of physical relationship with him that he’d seen in his captain’s mind as he was dying. 

Spock acknowledged that his charming captain was a social, sexual person, but when he pictured his friend expressing that sexuality it was always with a woman. The mirror reflected his startled expression as he realized that he HAD indeed pictured Jim having sex with women. 

_You meditated the images away because they were causing you jealousy,_ the Vulcan in the mirror reminded him. _Remember?_

Spock stepped under the sonics. He DID remember. As the waves cleaned his skin and soothed his muscles, Spock recalled the feelings Jim’s liaisons with various women had produced in him. He remembered lying on his bed one night, his stomach in knots as he visualized what he knew had happened in Kirk’s quarters the night before. The images were beautiful and terrible because it wasn’t him in Jim’s arms. Jim had shared himself with someone and it wasn’t HIM. 

Spock remembered the anguish and despair that had tormented him that night. Disgusted with himself, he had purged the visualizations and the jealousy they inspired. At least he thought he had purged them. He realized now that he’d bludgeoned them back with the force of his will, then locked them away too deep to trouble him or threaten his emotional control again. 

Now, under the sonic waves, Spock remembered wanting Jim that night, wanting his friend’s arms around him, wanting his body pressed up against him, his lips whispering words of love. He actively detested the women who had enjoyed Jim’s body. He wanted Jim for himself, in his bed and in his mind.

 _Jealousy… lust… This way lies madness,_ the Vulcan in the mirror paraphrased Surak’s teachings as he stepped out of the shower.

Spock regarded his body, flushed green from the sonic cleansing. A Vulcan and a human. There would be misunderstandings, arguments, cultural clashes… would he be enough for Jim? He thought of his parents. How many times had he heard his mother crying, and watched his father not go to her, treating her happiness like it was unimportant? He would not do that to Jim if they were joined. His bondmate’s happiness would be paramount. Jim’s emotional well-being would come before any other consideration.

_Before your duty? Before your traditions? Can you make a promise like that to him? You would never be able to provide what a passionate person like him requires._

Spock had heard his mother throw accusations of heartlessness at his father, who’d always stood rigid and stone-faced, enduring it. As a child living on Vulcan, he’d felt embarrassed by his mother’s emotional outbursts, her lack of control. Now, he realized that she’d been pleading for what she needed, what Sarek was either unable or unwilling to give her. It seemed cruel to him now how his father had behaved.

Spock was proud of how well he had learned to keep his emotions in check, but he also knew there was a fire in his heart that ached to be seen. He yearned to show it to Jim. He trusted Jim completely. Yes, he would show him! The next time they were alone together, he would show him his burning heart. His human bondmate would never have reason to doubt his love, never hurt from its withholding or insufficient expression.

 _He loves his ship more than you,_ the mirror taunted.

It was true that Kirk’s duty to the ship and her 430 souls always won out over any temporary dalliance Jim had enjoyed with a woman. But Kirk and Spock were the Enterprise’s executive team; Jim would not have to choose one over the other. Spock was as closely bound to the Enterprise and her demands as Kirk was.

_Dr. McCoy will disapprove. Jim will tell him and he will try to dissuade him, point out every flaw you have._

The hot-tempered doctor did seem to enjoy doing that… and he was very protective of Jim. Spock considered it likely that he would enumerate for Kirk the many ways his Vulcan lover would fall short.

 _You only need endure human emotionalism one more year, you know,_ his reflection reminded him. _After that, you can go home to Vulcan, let the Masters of Gol help you regain control of your passions, cleanse your conflicted mind._

Could he do that? Go through the Kolinahr in the mountains of Gol, purge his emotions and forget Jim, extinguish the fire in his heart that burned so brightly for his captain? Could he give up that much for the nebulous promise of serenity of mind and perfect logic?

 _You no longer believe in the teachings of Surak!_ his reflection accused. _You are losing yourself._

Spock turned away from the mirror. He was tired of arguing with himself, doubting himself. He had a beautiful jewel in his mind, a precious gift from his captain, and he wanted nothing more in this moment than to lie in the dark and luxuriate in it.

Isn’t that what Jim had said: That he had created those images when he needed comfort? Soon those intimate dreams from Jim’s dynamic mind would be washing over him like mental sonics, easing his fatigue and self-doubt.

Oh, and they did give him solace. As soon as Spock turned off the lights and closed his eyes, the images enveloped him like a warm blanket on a cold San Francisco night. How lonely he had felt on Earth at the Academy. If only he’d had a friend of Jim’s caliber back then. That loneliness was light years away now as Jim sighed and smiled at him. He pulled off Jim’s shirt and his golden skin was under Spock’s sensitive hands. Now, in a blink, all of their clothes were off and Spock could feel how his touch was making Jim come alive, stimulating and soothing him at the same time. 

His lover was making soft sounds of peace and contentment, punctuated by groans of pleasure. Spock kissed him and held him close, letting the warmth of his body soak into his bones as their minds moved in perfect harmony. Oh! How was closeness like this possible? Love surrounded him, total acceptance and adoration. Jim asked if he loved him and Spock assured him he did. His long leg curled protectively over Jim’s bare hip and pulled him in tighter. Like Jim, he felt aroused, yet languid. 

_Ahhh, Spock,_ his bondmate moaned as he tucked his head against Spock’s neck. _You’re such a comfort._

Spock had intended to play the scene over and over in his mind, but he fell into a deep sleep that lasted 4½ hours. When he woke, he stretched a luxurious stretch, feeling rested and content. His inner clock knew it was 07:08. He needed to be in Sickbay by 07:30 for the captain’s awakening.

Since he still felt clean from his shower, he put on his uniform and stepped into the bathroom to clean his teeth and check his appearance. He hadn’t washed his hair and it still looked as perfect as the day before, neat and shiny, but he added a dab of hair lacquer anyway and re-smoothed it for good measure, securing it for the day. Fastidiousness was in his nature. 

_Sex is a messy business in reality, you know?_ the Spock in the mirror reminded him with a raised eyebrow. _The images from Jim’s mind are beautiful and appealing to you, but your dear captain may also want other things… acts you would find distasteful or even repugnant._

Spock considered this. In Jim’s idyllic vision, his Vulcan lover was relaxed and confident, much like Jim himself. Could the real Spock be sensual and confident like that in a realm where he had so little experience? Would Jim think him awkward or too restrained if he were hesitant to do certain things in bed?

 _People can lose control during sex. What if you say something vulgar? What if you accidentally use too much of your strength and hurt him?_  
  
Spock’s image in the mirror winced. He could count three times in the past that he had hurt his captain when he did not have control of himself. Could passion create another dangerous loss of control? 

He had no concern about the blood fever; pon farr only occurred if a Vulcan tried to go more than seven years without sex. It was Nature’s way of continuing the species in a race that preferred to forgo the carnal passions of their ancestors. But what if he lost himself in the intensity of his emotions? If his desire for Kirk became its own kind of blood fever.

_Can you trust yourself not to hurt him, physically or emotionally? Not to turn away from him if his desires do not suit your tastes? Perhaps you should take this beautiful dream of his and expand that world in the privacy of your own mind, mold it, sculpt it, create something that is 100% to your tastes. Make something to fulfill yourself and don’t bother Jim with it. He did not give you this gift of his own accord, you realize? You TOOK it. Do not be greedy and try to take more, when it has not been offered._

Spock mulled these points. Jim did say that the imaginings he enjoyed probably would not fit with the reality of their lives, and Spock agreed at the time. The path he was contemplating was fraught with perils that could jeopardize their friendship. Did he want to take that risk, be that greedy, when he already had so much? Jim’s friendship was no small thing. The conversations they had, the meals they shared, the late-night chess battles they enjoyed, Kirk’s acceptance and high regard… They all meant so much to him. How could he risk losing what they already had together trying to turn a dream into reality?

The thought of boldly undressing his captain like the confident Vulcan in Jim’s dreams started to seem odd, wrong. No, that was not them. If Jim wanted to take them that direction, he would have said something by now, done more than just throw seductive looks Spock’s way now and then. No, this was not what Jim wanted. He had invaded his captain’s mind and seen something he was never intended to see. 

Spock was glad Jim wasn’t angry or overly embarrassed about it. His captain had a generous nature with most everyone, doubly so with him. Their relationship was already more intimate than it probably should be. He resolved not to overstep. He would be grateful for what they had, and if he ever felt the longing to take things further, he would pursue it in the privacy of his own mind using the template Jim had created. 

He cleaned his teeth and stared at his reflection in the mirror, confident that he had made the right decision. In four minutes he would go to Sickbay as planned to support the captain when he woke. Then, they would likely have breakfast together and ‘go mind the store,’ as Jim was fond of saying. Everything would return to normal. 

Spock’s thoughts became wistful picturing Jim alive and healthy again, resuming his regular duties that he loved so much. He looked up and caught the Vulcan in the mirror smiling.

_I predict an 86% probability that your resolve will falter the moment he opens his eyes and smiles at you… 90% if he touches your hand during breakfast._

***

Jim did smile at him when he opened his eyes and he did touch his hand during breakfast and do dozens of other endearing things throughout the day that made Spock’s heart swell. Every one of them sparked a private celebration in Spock that his captain was ALIVE. All of their might-have-beens were back in the realm of the possible.

Late in the afternoon, Jim conducted the funeral with his usual dignified solemnity. How Kirk hated losing a man. Every person under his command was significant to him, every loss deeply felt. Having to stand up there and wax philosophic about life and death, try to give comfort to the crew, always took a toll on him, but it was a duty he never delegated to Spock or the junior staff.

“How we face death is at least as important as how we face life…,” Jim was saying from the podium. Spock, sitting with the crew in the ship’s chapel, admired him in his command dress uniform. It gleamed green and gold as he gestured. His face was somber, but so expressive. He held the crew’s rapt attention both in the chapel and on screens all over the ship as he honored his two fallen officers.

Dr. McCoy was Josten’s department head, so he spoke a few words about the young man, then Ensign Brentmayer’s girlfriend, Yeoman Smith, stood up to give a eulogy. 

Darla Smith was barely five feet tall with blond hair and childlike features. She was shaking like a leaf, but bravely stood and gave the best eulogy she could for the man she loved. By the end, her small frame was wracked with sobs. As she stepped down, the captain gently took her in his arms to comfort her. 

“Darla, I’m so sorry,” he said gently. She nodded as she buried her face in his chest.

In the first few weeks after Yeoman Smith signed aboard the Enterprise four years ago, Kirk had accidentally called her ‘Jones’ more than once. They still had a laugh from time to time about that. Darla had been dating Gary Mitchell when he died, and Jim recalled consoling her after that funeral. He knew personal connections were important among his crew and never discouraged romantic liaisons, but they did make things difficult at times like this. 

“Oh, Captain!” Darla wept. “First Gary and now Derek. I can’t stand it. My heart is breaking.”

“They were both very lucky to know you,” Kirk said softly to her. “It never makes any sense.” 

Earlier that afternoon, he and Spock had paid a courtesy visit to Yeoman Smith privately to describe the details she wanted to know about her sweetheart’s last moments. Spock’s perfect recall was very useful in debriefings like those. He had recreated verbatim for her every conversation Ensign Brentmayer had participated in and every action he had taken on the planet. It was quite comforting to her. The ensign had been all business on the landing party and never spoken of Darla or personal matters, but just learning the particulars of his last hours eased Darla’s grieving heart. 

She had thanked Spock for taking the time to retrace Derek’s last steps for her. With his words, Spock had painted a picture of Verona 3, its bluffs and vistas, its smells and colors, giving the yeoman as many details as he could so her grief would have a setting. Kirk could tell that she found his descriptions quite satisfying. He felt very proud of his first officer in that moment and had given him one of his small nods of appreciation. 

Spock was a wonder, Kirk thought. The Vulcan would say that he had no capacity for comforting someone emotionally, but quite often his gentle, stoic manner and cool demeanor were exactly what somebody with churning emotions needed. When speaking to Darla of the accident itself, Spock emphasized that Brentmayer had acted bravely and selflessly, trying to save Ensign Josten’s life. He’d assured her that the official record would reflect this and Derek would receive posthumous honors. This had comforted her… and reminded Jim that Spock’s own heroism needed to be recorded in his report, when he had a chance to write it.

His first officer’s strength and quick reflexes had saved him from falling into that ravine where his ensigns perished. When the ground began to fall away beneath him, Kirk hadn’t even processed what was happening yet when Spock’s hand clamped around his wrist with an iron grip. As Brentmayer and Josten tumbled to their deaths, Jim was pulled to safety and into a tight embrace which really had nothing to do with keeping him back from the edge.

This easily could have been a funeral for three, Jim realized. As he held the weeping yeoman, Jim glanced over her shoulder to Spock who was seated in the front row, stoic and elegant in his sleek dress uniform. Spock was looking at him, as he knew he would be. While Jim held Darla Smith, Spock held Jim with his eyes. It was as comforting as a hug. How did Spock do that? 

_If I hadn’t brought Spock on the mission, I would be dead,_ Jim thought. _No one else would have been quick enough or strong enough to save me. No one but Spock._ His heart clenched as he thought about it. He gazed at Spock’s face. Spock’s familiar face. After four years, Jim could read it so well. Spock didn’t like to be left behind. Anytime Kirk was heading into the unknown, Spock wanted to be at his side. 

In the beginning, Jim would often leave his first officer to mind the ship, choosing to rotate his junior officers for landing party duty, so they’d each have a chance to get some experience in the field. Spock didn’t seem troubled by it. As he got better and better at reading the Vulcan, however, Jim realized it did trouble him. And frankly, he wanted Spock at his side all the time. Missions just seemed to come out better with them working together. Bones once said, “Take Spock. You’ve got a better chance of coming back in one piece if he’s with you.” That certainly had been true on Verona 3, Kirk thought, as he locked eyes again with Spock.

Yeoman Smith had been clutching the captain in her grief for two or three minutes now, and one of her friends finally came forward and helped her back to her chair, freeing Jim to take his seat next to Spock. There were two more eulogies before Kirk would have to stand up again for the traditional closing prayer.

Jim felt the comfort of Spock’s nearness and wished they could speak to each other telepathically without having to touch. He had the impulse to take Spock’s hand and hold it, but that wouldn’t do, not here. The last thing Kirk wanted was to make his friend uncomfortable after he’d so graciously forgiven him for his fantasies. Jim wished he knew if that was something Spock wanted with him. Not being offended was a far cry from being interested… and he didn’t get the sense that Spock was aroused by what he’d seen. 

Perhaps he would ask Spock outright the next time they had some privacy if he would consider taking their relationship in that direction. Spock would tell him the truth. He always did. If things were awkward for awhile after Spock politely declined, then so what? It was worth the risk. Kirk would be a bit embarrassed, but Spock had already seen his fantasies. What did he have to lose? He decided the odds were very low that he would lose Spock’s friendship entirely. Spock always forgave his human foibles. This would just be another one if Spock were not inclined to become his lover.

He thought about the tight embrace Spock had pulled him into after hoisting him by the wrist back onto solid ground. He thought of Spock offering his lap as a cushion for his head and begging him to breathe deeply when he was passing out from the thin air. Spock did love him. Of that Jim had no doubt. But would he accept an invitation to a sexual relationship? Did he want him for a bondmate? Was it even allowed in Vulcan culture for two males to bond? Perhaps another Vulcan bride had already been arranged for Spock. Jim didn’t know. His friend was still very private about such matters. 

_I’ll ask Spock tonight in my quarters over chess or dinner,_ he resolved. Images of what could happen between them tonight pulsed through his mind. Jim blew out a breath, fighting arousal. _I should not be thinking about this during a funeral,_ he chastised himself, forcing his focus back toward the podium as the next eulogy began.

***

Off-duty crewmen congregated in the mess halls and rec rooms, following the funeral, to enjoy each other’s company and share their memories of Josten and Brentmayer. Funerals always had the effect of bringing the crew closer together, increasing their appreciation for one another and the ephemeral nature of life.

Rec Room 3 was bustling with conversations, even some laughter, when technician Hood entered and spotted her good friend Yeoman Novak. There was standing room only, so the two ladies tucked themselves into a corner for a chat.

“Such a terrible thing, isn’t it?” Hood said, shaking her head. “They were both really nice guys.”

“I thought so, too,” Novak agreed.

“And poor Darla. Did you hear her eulogy?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t see it on the screens, but Yeoman Fong told me she cried all over Captain Kirk and he was very sweet about it.”

“I’m so glad HE survived!”

“I heard it was a very close call,” Novak said.

“Yeah, so did I. Medical technician Rollins told Lt. Barrows the captain had brain damage!”

“Oh, wow! Thank goodness they were able to fix it.”

“Isn’t it a hoot how Rollins has a crush on Barrows? She is sooo out of his league,” Hood gossiped.

“I don’t know her.”

“After four years, you’d think we’d have met everyone, but there are still people on this ship who I don’t know either.”

“I heard that Brentmayer and Josten didn’t know each other, not very well anyway, and now their names are forever linked in everyone’s minds. It’s weird how that happens, isn’t it?” Novak mused.

“Yeah, you gotta be careful who you die with!” Hood joked irreverently.

Her friend snickered, then made an ugly face and said, “Imagine dying with Thayer from Engineering.”

“Ugh! That guy is sooo weird. Heaven forbid,” Hood grimaced.

“I’m just glad Mr. Spock and Captain Kirk made it through this mission.”

“Now THERE’S a pair who ought to die together.”

“What?!”

Technician Hood rolled her eyes. “I just meant that I can’t picture one of them without the other, can you? They’re inseparable.”

“Oh. Yeah, I see what you mean. They’re two sides of a coin.”

“That’s for sure. I don’t think one of them would fare too well if the other were to die.”

Yeoman Novak nodded in agreement, then leaned in and whispered, “Do you think they’re lovers?”

“No. That’s just people talking,” Hood said, waving off the rumors. “I mean, Mr. Spock’s a Vulcan. I don’t think they’re even allowed to…

“Why not? Vulcans can do what they want.”

“Well, they don’t want to, though… do they?”

“Stranger things have happened. Opposites attract,” Novak said with a wink and a Vulcan-style eyebrow raise.

Hood chuckled hard at that, then suggested, “Hey, let’s go check out Rec Room 5. I bet it’s less crowded there.”

Turning to leave, they both inhaled sharply as they spotted Mr. Spock standing by the door! Had he just arrived or was he leaving?! He was a good 10 feet away and not looking in their direction… but knowing what they knew about Vulcan hearing, the two women froze for a heartbeat or two.

Just then, he glanced at them and slipped out the door.

“Oh, lord! We’re such idiots! He heard us, didn’t he?” Novak moaned, clamping her hand over her big mouth. 

Hood was wide-eyed as she realized they would never know. “He won’t mention it and neither will we, so…,” she reasoned.

Novak blew out a big breath of exasperation at herself. “Well, that’s it then. We’re gonna have to transfer ships.”

Hood gave a joyless laugh and a defeated shrug.

***

On his way to the bridge, Spock considered the conversation he’d just overheard. It was a mystery to him how two crewmen he rarely saw could recognize the vital connection between himself and the captain. As he walked, he remember having thoughts of wanting to die if Jim died. He’d suppressed them. It was shameful for a Vulcan to be so emotionally dependent on another individual that his death would destroy his will to live. But every time Captain Kirk’s life had been in danger, those kind of thoughts surfaced. 

Yesterday, when he was certain Jim was dying, it took all of his strength to wrench himself from his friend’s mind. He’d wanted so desperately in that moment to go with him. Wherever Jim was going, even if it was nowhere, Spock wanted to be with him. How had he let such dependency develop? They weren’t bonded. Why was he tied so strongly to Jim? He wondered if the captain felt the same way, and if he did, how long had his friend endured these feelings without the mental ability to suppress them like a Vulcan could?

Striding down the curving corridor, Spock took a mental tally of all of the times over the course of their five year mission that he had nearly died. Had Jim suffered each time? What kind of toll had that taken on him? Captain Kirk was known for his resiliency. He ‘bounced back’ quickly from emotional pain that would demolish lesser men. Had Spock added to his pain by being the way he was, by being reticent to discuss feelings after one of them had been in danger of dying? Or did Jim appreciate that he was this way? Kirk knew him well, knew his heart. Did he know how much effort it took for him to conceal it?

Spock reached the turbolift and stepped in, turning the handle to head for the bridge. If the captain were there, Spock was sure to be greeted by the smiling, confident man Kirk always was. Jim was adept at his own kind of suppression. He could shake off hurt feelings and ‘put on a brave face’ better than anyone Spock knew. 

His remarkable captain only grew warmer and more personable following emotional trauma. Spock often became more distant and aloof. Jim gave him that space. He wondered if Jim realized that although their coping strategies differed, their anguish when the other was in danger was likely the same. How many times had Spock’s unwillingness to show his feelings injured Jim? His beloved Jim who dreamt secret dreams of holding him in his arms and showing him how much he loved him. 

Spock squeezed his eyes tightly shut at the thought that his Vulcan reserve had hurt Jim the way Sarek’s had hurt his mother. He hoped he would get the chance to talk to him privately tonight.

***

“Captain,” Spock greeted with his usual lack of inflection as he stepped onto the bridge.

Jim was in his captain’s chair and spun to respond. He had changed from his dress uniform into his comfortable green v-neck and looked at ease. Spock was still in his formal dress shirt. They had gotten separated after the funeral, pulled into separate conversations.

“Mr. Spock. Did you attend any of the gatherings?” Jim asked warmly.

“I did,” Spock answered, nodding a greeting to Miss Uhura as he passed her.

“How is the crew holding up?” Kirk asked.

“As expected, Sir,” Spock replied, heading straight for his station. 

“Mm,” Jim grunted at the non-answer. Spock apparently wasn’t feeling chatty. He loved it when Spock stood beside him on the bridge, hands clasped elegantly behind his back, making conversation in that formal-casual way he had.

Spock immediately bent over his science station viewer, turning his back to the captain. He appeared instantly engrossed in his work. 

_Are you hiding your face from me, Spock? What are you feeling right now?_ Jim wondered to himself as he pretended not to stare at the back of his first officer.

As much as they both loved being on the bridge, this wasn’t where they needed to be right now. So many things were aching to be said. They needed privacy.

Suddenly, Bones’ voice broke over the intercom: “McCoy to the bridge. You up there, Jim?”

“Yes, Doctor. What can I do for you?” Jim answered innocently. He knew what was coming.

“Dammit, Jim. You said you were headed to your quarters to get some rest,” the doctor scolded.

“I changed shirts and thought I’d just check-in with the bridge for a bit,” Kirk explained.

“Well, if everything’s quiet up there, you need some sleep. ‘Coma naps’ don’t count ya know. You need some restorative REM sleep. Now, go get some dinner, if you haven’t already, and head to bed. Doctor’s orders.”

Kirk opened his mouth to protest, but glanced up to see Spock looking at him. The Vulcan gave him a small nod.

“Very well, Doctor,” Jim agreed. “I’ll turn in early.”

Bones wasn’t convinced. “Spock. You there? You make sure he does it, okay?”

Spock raised an eyebrow and Jim just smirked good-naturedly. With a subtle expression, the captain invited Spock to humor the doctor.

The Vulcan stood up tall at his station and said loudly, “Doctor McCoy, I shall ensure that the captain complies with your medical orders.” His eyes revealed only a hint of mirth.

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Jim,” McCoy said. “Sweet dreams.”

Jim rolled his eyes and pretended to pout. “Kirk out.”

Sulu and Chekov were glancing at each other and stifling smiles. Uhura was grinning into her communications console. It always amused them when the doctor strong-armed the captain for his own good. But when McCoy AND Spock ganged up on him, they knew their captain didn’t stand a chance.

Jim rubbed his eyes and face with his hands. He was tired and content to let McCoy win this one. He looked at Spock with soft eyes.

“Mr. Spock, whatever you’re working on, can it wait until tomorrow?” Jim asked. “Have dinner with me? The good doctor is graciously allowing me a meal before I turn in.”

“That would be agreeable, Captain. I have not eaten in 10.5 hours.”

“Yeah, I skipped lunch, too. It’s been a full day.” Jim slapped his chair’s console decisively and pushed himself up. Let’s ask Mr. Sulu to mind the store.”

Lt. Sulu gave a nod of acknowledgement and Spock followed the captain to the turbolift.

“Goodnight gentlemen,” Kirk said. “Miss Uhura.”

“Goodnight, Captain,” the bridge crew chorused.

The turbolift doors whooshed shut affording Kirk and Spock a brief cocoon of privacy.

“Can we eat in my quarters, Spock? The mess halls will be too crowded right now, and I… I want to talk.”

“Certainly, Captain,” Spock agreed. He wanted to talk, too. His inner monologue had been running non-stop. He would listen to what Jim had to say, first, though.

Jim squeezed his friend’s elbow and gave him one of his radiant smiles just before the lift stopped and the doors opened. 


	3. Chapter 3

**THIN AIR**

by Kimberius

Kirk and Spock walked in silence toward Jim’s quarters, nodding at crewmen they passed. 

Christine Chapel spotted them. “Captain, you really should be calling it a night. You’ve only just recovered and…”

“Bones already made that case, Christine,” Jim smiled. “I’m heading to my cabin now.”

“Oh, good. Take care of yourself, Sir. You’ve been through a lot,” Christine knitted her eyebrows together in concern. “You too, Mr. Spock. No working or playing chess into the wee small hours tonight, all right?” she lectured.

“Yes, Nurse,” Jim promised with an appreciative smile. 

Spock inclined his head in agreement.

“Goodnight, Sirs,” she said and continued on down the corridor.

Kirk sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as they kept walking. He felt Spock noticing his fatigue. “I am tired, Spock,” he whispered, “but I want to be with you.” Spock’s company was like a balm to his soul. 

“Lovely ceremony, Captain!” a shapely lieutenant from engineering called out. “You always know just what to say, Sir.”

“Thank you,” Kirk replied graciously.

When they reached the solitude of the captain’s quarters, it was a relief. It felt like a sanctuary of privacy and companionship.

“Take your boots off, Spock. Let’s relax for dinner,” Jim said once they were tucked away together in their familiar haven.

Kirk grabbed two meal cards from his stack by the food synthesizer and asked, “Your usual?”

“Yes, thank you,” Spock said as he slid into his typical chair and removed his boots.

In a few moments, Jim was placing two steaming trays on the table. Spock chose to start with a calming sip of tea. Though he looked serene, his mind was full of turmoil. He waited patiently for Jim to speak his mind, as he knew he eventually would.

The captain settled into his seat across the small table from Spock. As he bent over, the sight of him pulling off his boots reminded Spock of something he wanted to tell him. 

“Did you speak with Mr. Scott today, Captain?” Spock asked.

“Yes. Why?” Jim wanted to know.

“He was concerned about you. Did you know he assisted in your revival?”

Kirk had not seen his chief engineer in Sickbay. “When?” he asked.

“In the transporter room. There was a small delay bringing a gurney and Dr. McCoy enlisted his aid.”

Jim waited for the rest of the story.

“He pulled off your boots and socks and checked your plantar reflex.”

“Any reaction?”

“Not at that point, no,” Spock told him.

“Poor Scotty.” Jim could picture his friend’s stricken face. “He didn’t mention that to me…. Wait, did he ball up my socks?” 

Spock nodded.

“Those were some tight balls!” Jim chuckled. “I thought maybe you had done that for me.”

“My dexterity was sub-optimal for several minutes following our return from the planet,” Spock replied. “I regret I was not in Sickbay the first time you woke, Jim. For 7.2 minutes after we were beamed aboard, I could not walk. Mr. Scott sat with me in the transporter room until I could.”

“Bones just left you there?”

“I had been treated. You were the more seriously injured. When we beamed up, you were… on the verge of death.”

Jim looked down. He knew how much he’d worried everyone, not that it was his fault.

Spock remembered something else he wanted the captain to know. “Dr. McCoy has expressed a desire to change a landing party medical protocol and I approved it. From now on each crewman will carry his own supply of Tri-Ox compound on missions to insufficiently oxygenated atmospheres.”

Jim nodded approvingly. “Live and learn,” he said, taking his first bite of dinner.

Kirk and his first officer had shared many a casual meal at this table and played a lot of chess here over the past four years. Their rapport had grown from stiff and formal at first to the deeply meaningful friendship they now enjoyed.

A few months ago, when Jim had been attacked by Janice Lester and trapped in her body, he’d asked Spock to mind meld with him to prove his identity. He had said: “Spock, you are closer to the captain than anyone in the universe. You know his thoughts.” Spock treasured those words.

Jim knew Spock very well, too. He knew that beneath Spock’s placid exterior, he felt unsettled now, waiting for his captain to broach a subject they both knew needed addressing. Jim was tired and he didn’t want to wait any longer. He swallowed the bite he was chewing and gathered his courage.

“Spock,” he began, “we’ve grown so close. I feel… I want… well, you’ve seen what I fantasize about.” There wasn’t any need to spell it out when Spock had images like that in his head, Jim decided.

When Spock didn’t seem too spooked, Jim leaned in and, looking him straight in the eye, said, “Is that something you’d ever… consider… with me?”

 _So Jim DOES want to bring his dreams to life, despite what he said about them not fitting with the reality of our lives,_ Spock thought. He looked into his friend’s handsome, hopeful face. This needed to be handled delicately.

“Jim,” Spock began, folding his hands on the table and leaning forward, “in your imaginings of us… together… we are bonded. I do not believe you have a full understanding of what a pair-bond entails.”

“Tell me,” Jim said, intensity in his eyes, “or show me, in a meld, if it can help me better understand.”

“I think, for the moment, we should… refrain.”

“From mind melding?”

“Yes.”

Jim looked hurt, so Spock quickly explained. “For two minds like ours that are so compatible, bonding can occur spontaneously. When we meld, I feel your mind’s willingness to bond with mine and I am drawn to the idea. I have resisted, but your mind… and your body… are seductive to me.” 

Jim smiled at this. _Spock wants me._

Spock continued. “Recently, during our melds, I have felt your mind reaching for mine, but there is a danger. If we continue to meld often, because it is satisfying for both of us, or if we… do anything in the sexual realm… a bond could form without a conscious decision.”

“So?” Jim said. “How would that be bad?”

“I do not want to see you locked into something you may regret. Vulcans bond for life, Jim. Once formed, the pair-bond can only be broken by death. You would be bound to me for 50, maybe 60 years.”

 _Sounds great!_ Jim thought. “If I’m lucky enough to live that long and have you at my side, I’ll be a happy man,” Jim grinned.

Spock allowed himself to feel pleased about the devotion Jim was expressing, but he was determined to make sure he understood what he would be agreeing to.

“You would never have children.”

“I have a son. I thought you knew.”

“Yes. David Marcus… a very attractive child,” Spock said to let Jim know he had seen the images in his mind during past melds.

“He’d be 15 now. Pictures are all I have of him and Carol stopped sending me any about three years ago. She wants him all to herself, and how could I object with the life I have? It’s for the best.”

“Perhaps when he is an adult, you will have a relationship with him,” Spock suggested.

“Possibly.” Jim smiled wistfully. He would like that. 

“If you bond with me, there will be no more children, Jim.”

“I can’t even care for my orphaned nephew, Spock. My brother Sam was father-material, but me…?” Jim shook his head.

They ate in silence for a minute or so before it occurred to Jim to ask if Spock wanted children.

“I am sterile, as hybrids often are,” Spock answered stoically.

“Oh.” Jim didn’t know this.

“I was tested when I was 20, and disclosed it to T’Pring, but she was not permitted to end the engagement on those grounds.”

“That explains a lot,” Jim said. “She must have wanted children.”

“She did not offer that as a reason for her decision to challenge our marriage, but yes, I suspect my inability to father children played a role. She did not wish to subject herself to my pon farr madness for no gain.”

“Saving your life was ‘no gain?’” 

“In her estimation, apparently not,” Spock answered evenly.

Saving Spock’s life had been everything to Jim. He’d disobeyed orders to speed his friend to Vulcan when he needed to mate. 

“Has your family arranged for another Vulcan wife for you?” Kirk had to ask.

“Yes, they have.”

Jim’s face fell.

“…but I declined. I have no wish to marry a stranger,” Spock revealed. “I strive to honor most Vulcan customs, but this I have decided I cannot do.”

Jim smiled, hope renewed. “You must be out of favor with your father then,” he joked gently.

“That is a familiar state for me.”

Jim chuckled, then ventured, “You’re free then… and we could…” 

Spock raised an eyebrow seductively. 

That eyebrow had so much personality. Jim had never seen it say what it appeared to be saying now, though.

He swallowed nervously and asked, “How would pon farr work with us if I were your bondmate, Spock? Chemical imbalances only build up like that if you abstain from sex for seven years, right? And we would… not be abstaining,” Jim said with a seductive eyebrow raise of his own.

“That is correct,” Spock confirmed.

Jim wanted to ask more, but it was difficult to phrase. Spock had said his mind and his body were seductive to him, but Jim felt the need to clarify.

“You’re pretty sure that you could… become sexually aroused… by me?”

“Yes,” Spock answered simply. Then, in the name of full disclosure, he added, “although I may be averse to… penetrative sexual acts.”

Jim’s cheeks flushed pink and he flashed a shy smile. He could scarcely believe he and Spock were having this conversation. He wet his lips with his tongue.

“There are dozens of ways we can touch each other, Spock. Don’t worry if some things aren’t your style,” Jim said. 

Spock sighed a bit in relief. He was hoping that wouldn’t be a deal-breaker, and was heartened to hear Jim respond as he had.

Jim reminded himself that Spock was a cerebral person and the fusion of their minds was likely more important to him than the fusion of their bodies. What would that feel like?

“Is a bond like a constant, ongoing meld, where we can hear each other’s thoughts all day?” Jim asked.

“No. A bond can be blocked out so each partner can focus on his work. It becomes a background vibration, ever-present, but not consciously noticed. I used to feel it with T’Pring after we were selected for each other and a first bond was formed. I missed it after it was cut,” Spock admitted.

“She did us a favor,” Jim pointed out needlessly.

“Indeed,” Spock agreed.

“You said a bond can be blocked, but what is it like when it’s not blocked? Could I hear your voice inside my head from the other side of the ship, communicate with you like in a meld only without touching?”

“Yes,” Spock confirmed.

“Wow! That’s really something. Didn’t you ever think how useful that could be on our missions?”

“I did. But a bond is deeply personal and permanent. Like Terran marriage, it could not be invoked merely for expediency.”

Jim nodded. He understood. Spock had told him how private a thing mind melding is for Vulcans, yet he had performed melds numerous times in the line of duty on Kirk’s orders. This was different. Jim was honored that Spock was considering such a huge step with him.

“On Earth, marriages of love are still the ideal, but that’s NOT the Vulcan way, Spock. Are you sure you won’t be full of self-loathing in a few years for succumbing to Cupid’s arrow?” Jim teased his friend. 

Spock’s partial eye roll gave Jim a stress-relieving chuckle.

“I think as long as _you_ do not loathe me, self-loathing will not be an issue, no,” Spock assured.

Jim smiled. They had both finished their dinners, but he didn’t want Spock to leave. He was afraid his friend might take seriously the pledge he’d made to Dr. McCoy and excuse himself early so Jim could go to sleep. Kirk wanted to keep their discussion going.

“How did we end up in love, Spock? We’re so different,” Jim asked as he stood up and removed their trays.

“That is just it,” Spock answered. “We are not substantively different. Our comportment is different. Our upbringings and traditions are different, but our minds are alike. They reach for each other in a way I could not have predicted.”

“Two birds of a feather, huh?” Jim summarized. He didn’t sit back down. He needed to pace, burn up some of the energy and excitement that was building like a fire inside him. He blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“We shouldn’t fight this, Spock,” he determined. “We could have interesting conversations like this every night and you could teach me every advantage and pitfall of being bonded and we could negotiate every detail of our life plan… we could worry about things that could go wrong or lament how my lifespan is shorter than yours… or what our families will think…. There are a thousand things that could occupy our conversations for weeks, and we could draw this out and out, but…” Jim got a twinkle in his eye and stopped pacing. He gripped the back of the chair he’d been sitting in a moment ago and leaned toward Spock. “…I think we’re going to do this, aren’t we?” he said with awe and amazement.

“I have already decided that I want to, if you are amenable,” Spock revealed.

Jim’s smile lit up his handsome face. “Yes,” he said. “Yes.”

Spock allowed a smile of his own to spread across his face. Jim so rarely saw him this way. _I’m going to be with Spock for the rest of my life,_ he marveled. _God, I love him._

Jim’s eyes flitted to the bed.

A look of apprehension crossed Spock’s features for a microsecond, but Jim noticed it. Spock wanted to be everything to him, but this was not his area.

Jim considered him tenderly. “You’re used to being an expert at everything you do. This is new and outside your comfort zone. You’re nervous.”

“Yes,” Spock admitted softly.

Jim sat back down and reached for Spock’s hands across the small table. He noticed Spock gulp as he took them in his. “You’re going to get so good at this, Spock. You’re going to know my body like the back of your hand. You’re going to know every thought in my head, every way I’ve ever wanted to be touched, and I’m going to know it about you.” Jim’s breath hitched thinking about it. “We’ll take it slow and savor every minute of being nervous and shy with each other, because that won’t last.” He stroked Spock’s hands gently with his thumbs. “…and we’ll let the bond come when it comes.” 

Spock watched Jim’s hands stroking his so gently, then he looked into his friend’s beautiful eyes. “There is a legend that the strongest bonds are the ones that form spontaneously, without the assistance of a priest,” Spock said. “I do not know if it is true, but I am curious to find out.”

The captain smiled at his soon-to-be lover. All of the talking was done and it was time for doing, but Jim didn’t know how to move things in that direction. For all of his savoir faire with women, he felt unsure about what to do next. This was Spock. The momentousness of what they had just decided hung in the air. Should it be sealed with a kiss? _Our first kiss._ His heart began to pound in his ears.

Jim was aware that he was hesitating and probably confusing Spock. The momentum was stalling out. He let go of his friend’s hands across the table, leaned back in his chair, and sighed. As he tried to relax, an unexpected yawn caught him.

“You are tired, Jim. Perhaps a better time would be tomorrow night, when you are rested.” Spock stood up from the table and moved toward the door. Jim stood, too.

“Please don’t go,” Jim said. “I’ll rest better in your arms.” He had tried to say it seductively with his trademark charm and bedroom eyes, but it fell flat. It sounded more like a plea. He touched Spock’s arm gently. _Oh, Spock. I want you. I don’t know why I’m hesitating like this,_ he thought to himself.

Jim knew Spock was waiting for direction from him. He was the one with experience in physical relationships, the brash young captain who swept people off their feet. His first officer was looking to him for leadership, like he always did, and Jim was faltering. _Why?_

“Spock,” he whispered. “It’s harder than I thought to step over this threshold… friends to lovers.” He put his hands on Spock’s upper arms and squeezed lightly, looking into his beloved Vulcan’s discerning eyes. He felt frozen, unable to do any more than stroke the blue satin with his thumbs. Spock looked so regal and dignified in his dress shirt. _So much more than I deserve,_ Kirk thought.

“Have you changed your mind, Jim?” Spock asked gently.

“No. It’s just… well, it’s no small thing, is it? You and me,” Jim whispered. “I feel so… I can’t just… reach out and rip your shirt off….” He chuckled self-consciously, embarrassed that he couldn’t articulate his sudden reluctance better than that.

“As I recall,” Spock said, “in your imaginings, it was I who removed _your_ shirt.” With only a moment’s hesitation, Spock reached out and put his hands on Jim’s hips. In one fluid motion, he took hold of the hem of Jim’s green v-neck and pulled it over his head and off. Laying it carefully over a chair, he turned back to see that Jim was surprised but delighted. 

Spock’s hands were drawn to Jim’s bare skin. He had seen his friend’s naked chest many times before: in the gym, in Sickbay, on various missions. He’d even touched his bare torso on occasion when it was necessary. This was different. Here, now, he was allowed to see Jim as sexually attractive, a receptive lover, a mate. He placed his sensitive hands boldly on Jim’s broad shoulders, running his thumbs along his collar bones. Then, he slid his fingertips down over his smooth, muscular chest. Spock circled him slowly, experiencing him as he never had before, his hands exploring every square inch of his captain’s youthful chest and back. 

Spock’s hands felt hot to Jim, simultaneously arousing and soothing. “Oh, Spock,” Jim signaled that he was enjoying this, despite still being a bit frozen in place next to the table. It was overwhelming observing Spock behaving this way… so different in reality from anything Jim had imagined. Spock had been in his cabin hundreds of times over the past four years, advising him, calming him, helping him in dozens of ways. It was surreal to have his stoic, intellectual friend touching him like this. Jim held very still, letting the Vulcan gently caress his body.

Spock was behind him now, pressing his bejeweled dress uniform shirt into Jim’s back as slender fingers continued their exploration of his chest and belly. When Spock wrapped his arms tightly around him and squeezed, Jim could feel every decoration Spock had earned pressing like a stamp into his bare shoulder blade. _Spock._ His comrade-in-arms, the best first officer in the fleet. Spock was daring indeed to have pushed them over this hump when Kirk’s courage flagged. 

His courage was returning, though. When Spock’s grip on him loosened, Jim turned in his arms and kissed him. Just a peck on the lips, but then he wanted more and more. He held Spock’s face between his hands and kissed him over and over. Spock’s lips were soft and the taste of his mouth was something Jim had never experienced. Discovering Spock was going to be an adventure like no other.

After many tender kisses, Jim let one of his hands fall from Spock’s face to his collar. He undid the two clasps and unzipped the front zipper on Spock’s formal shirt. He peeled the shirt over Spock’s head and laid it beside his v-neck on the chair. Then, Jim pressed himself up against Spock. His first officer’s slender chest had quite a bit of dark hair. A flat, hairy chest was something Jim had never felt on his bare skin in a romantic setting. The sensation won him over immediately. The warmth and comfort of the feeling made him sigh. Holding Spock was like coming home. Jim kissed his neck and nuzzled his cheek into it. The taller Vulcan laid his dark head down on Jim’s hair and gathered him into the tight embrace he sensed the captain wanted. 

“Oh, Spock,” Jim sighed, reciprocating the tight bear hug. He could use so much strength with a man… not just a man, but Spock, who was twice his strength. He held his beloved Vulcan impossibly tight, knowing it wouldn’t hurt him. It felt so good. 

Of their own accord, Jim’s hips thrust toward Spock’s.

“Ahhh,” Spock groaned, his deep voice reverberating through Jim’s whole body. He slid his hand down to Jim’s hip and pulled his lower body in even tighter, inviting Jim to press deeper against him if he wanted.

“Spock. Uhh,” Jim moaned, feeling his own bulge meet Spock’s. A shudder of anticipation ran through him. This was reality! He was really about to make love with Spock. It felt impossibly erotic, forbidden. A shadow of reluctance still lingered in Jim’s mind. _This is wrong. Spock is your subordinate,_ his military ethics protested one last time, but the adrenaline surging into his veins helped him push past it. He banished any thoughts besides _Spock wants this, wants ME._ His heart sang with the truth if it. 

Jim pressed deeply into Spock, grinding his hips brazenly until Spock was gasping his name like a litany. Then, Jim pulled back and guided Spock over to the bed, prompting him to sit so they could get their uniform pants off without falling over. Once his were off, Jim engaged his door’s privacy lock and turned the lights down to a dim glow. They could still see each other, but the darkness increased the sense of privacy and intimacy... at least it did for _Kirk._

“This good, Spock?” he checked, in case his friend preferred full lights… or total darkness.

“Yes, Jim,” Spock said, pulling his pants over his feet. Spock wasn’t sure if socks were supposed to come off for these proceedings, but he saw Jim removing his, so followed suit.

“Do you need it warmer in here?” Jim asked, knowing Spock got cold more easily than he did.

“No. You would sweat.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be sweating anyway,” Jim said with his sexiest grin. He clicked the thermostat up a few degrees for Spock’s comfort. 

They had both caught their breath a bit and now sat together on the edge of Kirk’s bed, undressed except for their underwear. Spock’s bulge was obvious and Jim wanted to stroke it. He stood and drew back the covers, inviting Spock into his bed. Spock slid in and Jim laid down beside him, pulling the covers up to their chins. It felt safe, comfortable. They were facing each other. Jim gave Spock a long kiss on the lips, then boldly slipped his hand between Spock’s legs and rubbed.

“Uh-,” Spock gasped, arching his back involuntarily.

Jim cradled him in his hand, determined to give him the very best experience that he could. With his other hand, he reached around to Spock’s backside, kneading it and encouraging him to rock his hips in a slow rhythm. Spock learned quickly and moaned each time his growing bulge ground into Jim’s hand.

Jim reached deeper and stroked the Vulcan’s soft sack with his fingertips through his underwear as Spock’s growing erection strained against the material.

“Ohhh. Jim,” Spock groaned. “Ahhh.”

“Can we meld?” Jim whispered, kissing Spock’s neck as he continued caressing him through his underwear. He wanted to feel Spock everywhere, through his mind as well as under his lips and hands. 

“A meld now would be disordered, t-tumultuous.” Spock panted. “My mind is… in d-disarray.”

“Well, I should hope so,” Jim teased gently. He ran his hand up over Spock’s hip and down his outer thigh to give him a chance to catch his breath. He didn’t know how long Spock could endure direct stimulation without coming, and he wanted this to last. Spock’s legs were so muscular, like a marble statue covered in silky, warm flesh. Jim was suddenly curious what his calves felt like and ventured a foot over to touch. He ran his toes up and down Spock’s sharp shins and pushed his foot between his friend’s taught calves. Spock’s hipbone was as sharp as his shins and Jim gripped it, rubbing his thumb in the crevasse where leg and body met. Spock mirrored his action. Gradually, they coaxed each other closer. Spock hooked his long leg protectively over Jim, like he’d seen in the captain’s imaginings. It locked them together so intimately. 

Through their underwear, they could feel each other swelling, throbbing. Their hips naturally pushed forward, seeking the same deep contact they had enjoyed while standing. The only fabric between them now, though, was the thin smoothness of their underwear. It allowed for an easy, sensual slide against each other. Both of their erections jumped to full attention feeling each other’s heat and pressure.

Jim was adept at making “adjustments” when his erections advanced to the stage where they needed to point UP, but Spock was less familiar with this problem, so Jim reached between them and gently arranged them both. Then they discovered how different it felt positioned like this when they eased back together and resumed their rhythmic sliding. 

“Oh, Jim,” Spock choked as the sensitive underside of his shaft pressed up against Kirk’s. He took Jim’s hand and pulled it to his lips. “I love you,” he whispered in earnest.

“I love you, too, Spock,” Jim said. God, it was easy to love Spock. He felt so lucky to be trusted with his exquisite body like this. He really wanted access to Spock’s “tumultuous, disordered” mind right now to see firsthand how he was handling these intense sensations, if this was scaring him at all. 

Spock’s eyes were clamped shut. He was holding Jim’s knuckles against his teeth now. Jim decided to pull his hips back a few inches to give Spock another breather. Spock opened his eyes and Jim showed him a beautiful, loving smile. 

“Thought you could use a little break,” Jim said casually, laying his palm on the side of his friend’s exotic face. 

Spock nodded imperceptibly. “It… is a lot,” he said.

“Are you doing okay with this?” Jim checked.

“Yes, Jim. I was thinking just now about how I almost lost you yesterday,” Spock admitted. “It ruined the pleasure for a moment. I am sorry. I do not have good control of my mind right now.”

“No need to be sorry, Spock,” Jim said, tracing Spock’s fascinating ear with love. “Over the past four years, I’ve spent more than a few nights lying right here in this bed, crying from relief that you didn’t die.”

Spock’s expression was unguarded and reflected his surprise.

“You’re precious to me, Spock,” Jim said with quiet intensity. “You have been for quite awhile. I don’t know if I could live without you or if I would want to.”

“I entertained similar thoughts earlier today,” Spock confessed.

“I’m glad we’re acknowledging our love, Spock. It’s been difficult having such strong feelings for you and having to push them down.”

“Yes,” was all Spock said. He captured Jim’s lips and kissed him passionately, holding him close and only breaking away when they both needed air. 

Jim remembered trying to breathe on Verona 3, his fear and how Spock had tried to help him, prompt him to take deep breaths, buy them more time. He recalled Spock in his mind in Sickbay and what a comfort he was, always so controlled…

“Spock, let me see your thoughts. A little chaos won’t hurt me.” Jim smiled. He was looking at Spock’s forehead like he could will the thoughts into his own head. Spock could refuse him nothing. He positioned his fingers…

“My mind to your mind,” Spock began the familiar incantation, but as soon as he had started, Jim was already there.

 _God, I love your mind; I could live here,_ Jim thought with joy. _We connect so effortlessly now, Spock._

The landscape of Spock’s telepathic mind was always beautiful, but the composure that had been the hallmark of their past encounters was missing from this meld. This meld was filled with passion, need, Spock’s desire to give everything of himself to Kirk. Jim projected the same right back to him. _Take anything from me that you need, Spock. It is yours. I am yours._

Jim pulled Spock to him again and began insistently grinding against him. He couldn’t get enough. Spock in his mind and in his bed was everything he could want. 

The carnal sensations in his body disrupted Spock’s ability to concentrate and maintain the meld, and his hand left Jim’s face to grip at his captain’s gyrating hips… yet they remained in telepathic contact!

 _How are you doing this, Spock?_ Jim asked in wonder, but Spock was not in an analytical mood. His mind was fire and want. 

_Ohhh, Jim. My bondmate. I need you!_ Spock’s disordered mind cried out.

This was the pounding surge of emotional and physical ecstasy that Jim knew Spock was afraid of.

 _I have you, Spock,_ Jim said. _We’re together._ He slid his fingers under the band of Spock’s underwear and swiftly pushed them down as far as he could before doing the same to his own. When their erections bobbed free, Jim gathered them in one hand and squeezed them tightly together.

Spock gasped. His mind was a crashing wave of sensation. Jim was his heart’s desire and he never thought he would have him so completely, be immersed so profoundly in his human world of sexual pleasure like this.

“Uhhh, Jim!” Spock shouted aloud. His head was thrown back, exposing his throat. Jim kissed his Adam’s apple and felt his deep, uncontainable moans vibrate under his lips.

“Spock. Oh, Spock,” he whispered. “I love you. I love you!” 

With experience, Jim had learned not to blurt ‘I-love-you’ during sex, but with Spock, it rolled off his tongue and could not be withheld. He wanted to say it over and over, each time with more joy than the last.

They were both so hard in Jim’s strong grip and the combined throbbing made their pulses indistinguishable. _We are together, Spock. We are one._

Fluid was weeping across Jim’s fingers and he swept his thumb over the source, blending and swirling their slick fluids together around their erections’ nerve-rich tips. Spock’s contribution seemed even more slippery than Jim’s, and Kirk released his tight hold on their straining shafts long enough to smear some on his palm.

At the loss of Jim’s grasp, Spock’s hips began to buck more desperately, seeking the surrounding pressure of _Jim_. With a grunt of need, Spock grabbed Kirk’s hip and rolled him suddenly onto his stomach. Instinctively, mindlessly, Spock began to mount him. Only Jim’s shout of alarm through their meld made him realize what he was doing and desist. 

Jim turned back on his side and eased Spock down beside him on the bed so they were facing each other again. Kirk had felt a flicker of fear because Spock was so much stronger than he was, and now Spock was beginning to feel ashamed. That wouldn’t do. Jim whispered in his ear, “shhh, it’s all right.” Then, he re-slicked his hand with their pre-cum and took hold of them again, squeezing them together like before but adding a strong pumping action up and down their combined lengths, pulling and stroking, while maintaining the tight pressure that Spock apparently needed. 

Jim couldn’t tell for sure, but Spock seemed close to orgasm. He reached his free hand between the Vulcan’s legs to discover Spock’s soft sack wasn’t so soft anymore! He couldn’t remember his own nads ever feeling that hard. It was… fascinating. 

Spock groaned at the touch. _He has to be very close to release,_ Jim thought. Kirk couldn’t go much longer. He wondered if there was something else he should be doing to tip Spock over the edge. He tried to ask through the meld as he continued pumping, but Spock had checked out mentally. All of his thoughts, if you could call the swirling maelstrom of telepathic energy ‘thoughts,’ were centered around the intense stimulation his body was receiving. 

_I’m doing something right, then_ , Kirk thought to himself. At that moment the floodgates burst and Spock’s orgasm exploded. 

“AHHHH!” Spock shouted, as the first wave overtook him. 

Jim was coming, too, although he’d learned years before to do it quietly and with minimal drama. Still, the pulses were harder than was normal for him.

Spock groaned out the second wave as white ribbons coursed out of him under the covers. It didn’t even occur to him to worry about Jim’s poor bedsheets until he came back to himself a bit during the third wave.

“Uhhhh, Jim. Oh, oh, Jim!” he panted. 

Spock was holding Kirk by the shoulders now and leaned his forehead against Jim’s as he rode it out. Kirk could feel his hot, heaving breaths against his face. Jim loved it. His hand, tired from its excellent work, had released its grip and fallen to the wet mattress. Jim wanted to use that hand to stroke Spock’s beautifully flushed face, but realized it was too covered in their…. _Wow_. Jim stilled, feeling a bit of disbelief at what they had just done. Then, he pulled back so he could see his new lover’s expression.

“Good?” Jim asked tenderly. “You, okay?”

“Yes, yes… yes… yes. Yes.”

“Well, anything you say five times has to be true, right?” Jim chuckled at his friend’s post-climax disorientation. It was wonderful and endearing.

Spock saw bright lights around his peripheral vision like he had after beaming up from Verona 3. “I am dizzy,” he stated simply, rolling onto his back and gulping some more deep breaths, “…and wet.” Spock’s hand had also found the copious pool of slippery jelly between them.

Jim grinned contentedly. “I’ve got another set of bedsheets. Don’t worry,” he said. “We’ll shower up in a bit. Just rest for now.”

Spock nodded and blinked several times, still coming back to his senses under the sweaty sheets.

Kirk rolled onto his back, too, and threw the sheets off to cool down. 

_My God, Spock. That was amazing. You’re amazing!_

_It was a very… powerful experience,_ Spock declared, trying to process everything that had just transpired. He stretched to reset his very unusual-feeling body.

 _You went off like Vesuvius! How long since your last orgasm?_ Jim asked.

 _I have never had an orgasm,_ Spock stated matter-of-factly, sounding more like himself.

_You’ve never… I mean not even by yourself?_

_No_.

Before Jim could marvel at that, he realized there was something much bigger to be marveling at… 

_Spock! We’re not TOUCHING right now and I can hear your thoughts! Are we bonded?_


	4. Chapter 4

**THIN AIR**

by Kimberius

Spock rolled in the bed to face Jim, startled that he had not noticed their continued telepathic connection until Kirk mentioned it. They were still hearing each other’s thoughts even though they were no longer in physical contact! He propped himself up on an elbow and regarded Jim. Kirk could feel him rippling through his mind, searching him, loving him.

 _Yes,_ Spock said in amazement. _We have bonded._

Tears sprang to Jim’s eyes. He had dreamed of this for so long. Spock was his. He was Spock’s.

Spock knew Jim was crying from joy, not sadness. He knew volumes about Jim, he realized, from his childhood years through his rise in Starfleet and nearly everything in between. Spock understood human emotion and social interaction like he’d never comprehended it before, in all of its complicated nuances and subtleties. His eyes went wide as he realized he had access to all of Jim’s considerable talents… and it was dawning on Kirk that the reverse was also true.

 _I can speak VULCAN! I can compute the gravimetrics of a neutron star. I’m a genius! WE’RE a genius!_ Jim discovered with delight.

Kirk was still lying on his back. His eyes were ricocheting behind their lids, examining the bond and all it revealed. _I know every acre of your parents’ estate, Spock, all of the trails you used to hike with Ichaya… your mother’s rose garden… the fountain and the blue wind chimes…._

Spock could see Jim as a teenager, studying in his bedroom of the family farmhouse in Iowa, dreams of going to Starfleet Academy dancing in his head. He saw Cadet Kirk in San Francisco, enjoying the camaraderie of other scholars and dreamers, double dating with Gary Mitchell, fighting with his nemesis Sean Finnegan, and studying every night until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.

_I can see you at the Academy, too, Spock, and on your first training cruise, and on the Enterprise before I was captain… I can feel what you felt!_

Jim swallowed hard and his exuberance quieted. He opened his eyes and looked up at Spock.

 _You’ve been so lonely, Spock. So lonely your whole life. No more._ He felt Spock’s love for him pouring through the bond as they basked in the afterglow, exploring each other’s minds and celebrating their new union.

Throughout his gregarious life, Kirk had enjoyed many friends and lovers, but he’d never felt fulfillment like this before. It flooded his soul with light and peace. He felt tranquil and warm… and suddenly so sleepy. He remembered McCoy’s orders and sighed.

“C’mon, Spock. Let’s get cleaned up and back to bed. Will you stay here with me tonight?” He already knew the answer.

“Of course, Jim.”

With the crumpled top sheet, Jim gently wiped off their hands, then gave Spock a soft kiss on the lips, before turning the lights up a bit. 

“You can take the first shower, Spock. I’ll change the bed,” he said, dragging himself to his feet.

Spock nodded. He pulled up his underwear before leaving the bed, still shy around his new lover. Jim had done the same. He grinned at Spock’s modesty… and his own. This was uncharted territory; they were finding their way.

As Kirk began bundling up the sheets for the laundry, Spock headed toward the bathroom, then stopped and turned. He needed to say something.

“Jim. I… I apologize for attempting to… penetrate you. I did not have control of myself in that moment, until I felt your alarm through the meld. Thank you for… redirecting me.”

Jim blushed. He stopped stripping the bed and put his whole focus back on Spock. “Yeah, that… surprised me after what you’d said. Maybe you’re not as averse to… ‘penetrative sex’ as you thought, huh?” He chuckled nervously. 

“Perhaps not,” Spock said, raising an eyebrow.

Jim saw through their bond that Spock’s main concern was being penetrated himself, but he didn’t think he would enjoy it the other way around either. He was now reconsidering.

“I only ‘redirected you’ because… I thought maybe you didn’t know that sex that way can… um, hurt without… preparation.”

“I did not,” Spock admitted, searching Jim’s mind for what he meant by ‘preparation.’

“Spock, I know I had just said you could take anything from me that you wanted, and I meant it, but… I just… didn’t want you to hurt me and then feel terrible,” Jim explained awkwardly. 

Spock considered. “Quite understandable.” He looked at his bondmate’s hand that had given him such astonishing pleasure. “The tightness of your fist made me want… more. I did not think of penetration being painful for you. I was not thinking at all, actually. A very strange sensation.”

Spock’s puzzled expression made Jim smile. “It’s okay, Spock. It’s called ‘thinking with the little head,’ and for the record, I’m open to… that type of sex with you, if you’d like to try it. It’s just that it takes a bit of forethought and planning.”

“Oh,” Spock said, looking contemplative. He saw in Jim’s mind that he did not know this from personal experience.

“No,” Jim confirmed. “I haven’t ever done that with anyone.” 

But there was something from his past, something Jim knew Spock would discover soon anyway, so he decided to just blurt it out: “Ben Finney asked me years ago, and I considered it… but he was married and I… I couldn’t.”

Spock could not conceal his surprise. He had wondered what had driven Jim’s old friend Lt. Commander Finney to such a mad, vindictive plan as faking his own death just to ruin the captain’s career. He knew from the court martial that Kirk logged an engineering error of Finney’s which drew a reprimand and jeopardized the man’s chances for promotion, but Jim had never discussed it in depth with Spock.

“He was my close friend, Spock. He wanted to be closer, but his wife was pregnant and I.… It was wrong and I knew it. Ben made a big show of naming his baby after me… you remember Jame… and wooing me hard after I’d already turned him down. It got uncomfortable for me and I stopped spending my off-duty time with him.”

“When I discovered that mistake he made… leaving that circuit open... and I logged it, he was furious with me. He told me it was my fault that he couldn’t concentrate worth a damn anymore. He called me a tease and told me to go to hell. So, that was it… until his festering anger exploded in that crazy stunt. I guess I really did hurt his career,” Jim said guiltily. “I’m glad it didn’t come out in the trial that I had broken his heart as well.”

“Before we left, Jame told me she was proud to be named after ‘the great Captain Kirk.’ Jim laughed uncomfortably. “I wonder how she’d feel about being named after her father’s almost-lover? Hopefully, she’ll never know.”

Spock listened quietly. He was glad Jim was trusting him with this old wound. He saw that Jim and Ben had shared some tender moments that went beyond friendship. Jim was so young then, a midshipman, and Finney was ten years his senior. Spock had known Lt. Commander Finney only as an unremarkable records officer, then later as a madman intent on destroying the ship. But now, he saw him through Jim’s eyes, affable and compelling, full of charisma and good humor. Jim had admired him, felt affection for him.

“He was an instructor at the Academy for years, Spock… never mine, but he knew so much about everything and was an amazing resource. I could always go to him with questions. Ben helped me impress my commanding officer when I was a midshipman. Half of my early success was due to him. He helped launch my career… and I derailed his.” Jim looked down.

With his new, deeper comprehension of emotions and their implications, Spock sympathized with Jim’s conflicted feelings. “You did nothing wrong, Jim.”

Kirk smiled weakly. “Didn’t I? We were good friends, Spock. Really tight. I should have tried harder to mend our friendship instead of just letting it go. I thought Ben would be fine.” He sighed. “I thought the same thing about Janice Lester and look at the resentment she built up for me!”

Jim sat down on the half-stripped bed and sighed. “I know nothing.”

“You knew enough to protect yourself by disengaging from people who were unstable.”

“I _caused_ their instability,” Jim lamented.

“You arouse deep passion in people, Jim. How they choose to direct it is not your responsibility. In the cases of Lt. Commander Finney and Dr. Lester, mental illness was a critical factor.”

Jim blew out a big, cleansing breath as he ran his hand through his hair. He hadn’t talked to anyone about this in years... _ever,_ actually. It felt cathartic. He got a playful grin and asked, “ _You_ won’t develop a psychotic hatred for me, will you, Spock?”

Spock tried to play his new lover’s game. “Time will tell,” he said coyly, cocking his head to one side, a soft smile forming across his lips. But then, instead of heading to the shower, he returned to the bed and sat down next to Jim. He took his hand.

Jim saw through the bond that Spock recognized his joking concealed a kernel of worry. The captain had been hurt several times by people who once cared for him. Naturally, it had crossed his mind that someday he might lose Spock’s love….

“We are one, Jim. It is done. We are bondmates,” Spock reassured.

“‘Till death do us part, huh?” Jim said, squeezing his hand.

“Indeed,” Spock said soberly.

Through the bond, Jim could see that his shorter lifespan caused Spock sorrow. He knew that by bonding with a human, Spock had essentially condemned himself to being alone for the final third of his life.

“We have chosen dangerous careers, Jim. There are no guarantees for either of us.” Spock reminded. “You may outlive me.”

Jim thought about that. “God, I hope not… but I don’t want to leave you alone either.” He frowned, leaning gently against Spock’s shoulder.  
  
“Having this much to lose is daunting,” Spock recognized. “I suggest we comfort and support each other for as long as we are able and not worry about variables over which we have no control.”

“Hear, hear,” Jim agreed, letting the smile return to his lips. Secretly, he wanted to control all of the variables; he didn’t like to lose.

“…and incidentally,” Spock added, “I do not actually know what my lifespan is, since I am a hybrid. I look Vulcan, but half of my chromosomes come from my mother. I could possibly have her lifespan.”

“Oh,” Jim said. “Then, I guess time will tell.”

Spock nodded.

“Well, I hope you live long and prosper,” Kirk said with a wink.

“Thank you, Captain.”

Sitting there naked except for his sticky underwear, Spock was beginning to look cold. 

“Go get a hot shower, Spock,” Kirk said, squeezing his thigh. “I recommend a soap and water shower by the way.”

“Ah,” Spock said, glancing down at his lower torso. “Yes.”

“Grab a pair of clean underwear from my middle drawer,” Jim offered with affection. 

***

As Spock showered, Jim smiled broadly to himself and finished bundling up the sheets for the laundry. He began carefully making his bed with a fresh set of linens, imagining Spock crawling back under the covers to sleep with him. _I have a Vulcan lover,_ Jim thought with amazement, _a bondmate! I’m… married._ Surprisingly, that thought didn’t scare him at all. In fact, it filled him with peace. 

_I_ _love you, too, Jim,_ Spock said from the shower, surprising him through the bond.

 _Wow, this is going to take some getting used to,_ Kirk replied.

 _Do you desire mental privacy at this time?_ Spock asked considerately.

_No, I desire YOU, curled around me, and a blissful night’s sleep in your arms._

Spock smiled and proceeded with his shower, enjoying the smells of Jim’s shampoo and soap. He rarely indulged in a water shower and it felt luxurious. As he lathered up the sticky areas, he remembered the feel of Jim’s hand there and a thrill ran through him at what they had just done together… a physical experience intense enough to bond him with a non-telepath! 

He had correctly sensed that it could happen. Spock was pleased with himself for explaining everything so well to Jim beforehand, getting his informed consent to bond. He imagined for a moment how Jim would be feeling now if he hadn’t known what could happen… if he had just started kissing Spock and Spock had fallen into his arms without having a chance to tell him…

 _You wouldn’t have done that, Spock. I know you,_ Jim said telepathically. 

Ah, Jim, shining in his mind like love itself. Spock saw how Jim regarded him as a paragon of virtue, with pure motives and a sterling character.

 _You think the same of MY character, Spock. At my court martial, you testified that you trusted me as much as GRAVITY!_ Jim reminded. _I never told you how moved I was by that. It kind of stunned me._

 _I arrived at that analogy quite logically,_ Spock assured.

 _Human beings make mistakes, Spock. You implied that I couldn’t. That’s logical?_ Jim challenged gently with good humor.

Kirk chuckled as he felt Spock’s mind conceding the point. _Well, it was very flattering at any rate,_ Jim said. _Thank you… and thank you for saving my career by realizing the whole thing was a trick and Ben was still alive. That thought never would have occurred to me._

_My pleasure, Jim._

_It’s going to be amazing having your intellect and logic at my disposal now, Spock._

_They always have been, Captain._

Kirk acknowledged the truth of that. He smiled and finished making the bed, letting Spock get back to his shower.

As a military man, Kirk was used to austerity, yet his choice of shower products was lush. It pleased Spock to learn that Jim cared for his body in this way. Briefly, it occurred to him that perhaps one of Jim’s ‘overnight guests’ had synthesized these bath products for herself, but the scents were decidedly masculine. No, these were Jim’s selections. Spock filled his hand again with the pearly amber shampoo and raised it to his head for a second scrubbing. He breathed in the fragrant steam as his pores absorbed the scent of his bondmate. 

Jim was his bondmate! It still made his head swim to think of it. His brilliant captain, whom everybody admired and adored, was his! …not for a night, or until the end of the five-year mission, but for life. 

As he rinsed his hair, Spock pictured making love to Jim as he aged, buoying his self-confidence if it faltered, and showing him how deeply loved he was. His body had the power to do that; it could demonstrate his devotion even better than words could. Spock had an appreciation for that now. 

As a Vulcan, he’d spent years developing his intellect and had often felt rather fettered by his body, its limitations and its endless demands: sleep, nutrition, exercise, hygiene…. But now, his body felt paramount. The way it had responded to Jim’s touch seemed nothing short of magical. As he stepped out of the shower to towel off,  
Spock smiled approvingly at his naked body in the bathroom mirror.

 _Well, it seems sexuality suits you,_ the Vulcan in the mirror observed. 

Spock noticed how vital and healthy he looked. His slender frame seemed robust and his pale skin had a luster. 

_You took a big risk,_ his reflection said to him.

He had. But the potential for gain was just too great.

_You made the correct decision._

_Yes._ He was sure of that. Spock smiled at his reflection. He felt brave, as brave as James T. Kirk himself. 

He combed his hair and emerged from the bathroom in Jim’s borrowed underwear.

Kirk beamed at the sight and touched Spock’s belly hair lovingly with his fingers as he passed, heading into the bathroom for _his_ shower. Treating Spock like a lover was still so new and strange.

“The bed is ready, Spock,” he called over his shoulder. “Pick out some pajamas from my bottom drawer so you won’t get cold, and my blue robe is in the closet. I’ll be right there.” 

***

Jim intended to be brief, but fatigue hit him again under the hot water and he took longer to shower than he planned, despite wanting to get back to Spock. _I wish we could shower together, Spock, but there’s not room enough in here for two._

Spock saw through the bond that Jim did know _that_ from experience.

 _Yeah, even the tiniest of women can’t fit in here without…. Do you mind me talking about women I’ve been with,_ _Spock_? Jim asked.

_No, Captain._

_I would normally keep stuff like that to myself, but now that we’re bonded, I can’t keep it private anymore. I don’t mind you knowing, but it does kind of run contrary to my ‘don’t kiss and tell’ ethic. Does it make you feel jealous at all?_

Spock thought about it. He wanted to answer honestly. _I have felt jealousy occasionally in the past over liaisons of which I was aware._

Naturally, Spock would be aware, even when Kirk thought he was being discrete. Jim hadn’t known he was hurting his friend.

_I’m sorry, Spock. You should have said something._

_What would I have said?_ Spock asked.

Jim rubbed some body soap over his chest and shoulders and considered. _If you hadn’t seen my fantasies about you on Verona 3, you never would have said anything, would you?_

_It is impossible to say with a hypothetical._

_You weren’t planning on saying anything_ , _though?_

 _No. You were not either,_ Spock pointed out.

_Well, I’m your superior officer and your best friend. I… I didn’t want to do to you what Ben Finney did to me. The risk of creating tension like that between you and me kept me quiet._

_So, when you were… romancing beautiful women, you would have preferred to be with me?_ Spock ventured.

 _Yes,_ Jim said, _realizing he was being 100% truthful. He felt Spock’s amazement through the bond._

Kirk was curious about something. _Spock, when two Vulcans bond, neither of them has memories of other lovers in their minds, do they?_

 _Generally not. Virginity is not mandatory, but if you have a first-bond with someone and are pledged to them, it is considered… polite to abstain from sexual or emotional liaisons with others,_ Spock explained.

 _I’m sorry my mind isn’t as… pristine as you deserve,_ Jim said as the water blasted into his face. He wished he could rinse away all of the encounters that could hurt Spock. His mate was going to see all of them now with the vivid clarity the bond provided. Some were love. Some were infatuation. A few were mere expediency. He’d used his sex appeal as currency on several occasions over the past few years and patted himself on the back for his ingenuity, but now…. He thought of Sylvia, Kelinda, Deela. Things had gone a bit too far with Deela of Scalos. He tried to think about something else.

_Jim, there is not a single thing in your mind that I would wish away. Your life, your experiences, your… unconventional strategies… everything you ARE is exactly what I want._

Jim could see that this was true. 

_Spock, how unusual is this on Vulcan? Two men bonding? Does it happen at all?_ Jim wondered.

_It does. Not as frequently as in ancient times, but there are some modern Vulcans who are t’hy’la._

Jim saw that _t’hy’la_ was a word from Vulcan’s pre-reformation period that described a battlefield bond of love and fidelity between two warriors. He discovered that Spock had long thought of them as _t’hy’la_ but had never expected a consummation, the reality of a bond with his captain. Spock’s joy and wonder at their new status glowed in his mind like a sunrise.

 _Oh, Spock. I love knowing you like this._ Jim sent all of his love through the bond, then concentrated on finishing his shower and getting back to Spock... although he was beginning to realize, to his delight, that he was always with him now.

***

When Kirk emerged from the bathroom, Spock was at his desk, finishing a report on the computer. That was so Spock. The sight of him sitting there, wearing his robe over his most comfortable pajamas did things to Jim’s heart. Spock felt it and looked up with that Mona Lisa smile on his face that Jim adored.

Spock had worn Jim’s robe once before, a few weeks ago. He’d gotten chilled during a late night chess match that was unusually competitive. They’d battled for hours and neither wanted to lose or abandon the game for later. Usually, Jim would have turned up the temperature in his quarters a bit to accommodate Spock, but that night his mind was on fire with strategic brilliance and he thought warmer air might make him sluggish and cost him the game. It bothered him knowing that Spock was cold, though, so he sprang up and came back with the fleece robe, saying, “Here Spock. Put this on.” It turned out, though, that the adorable sight of Spock wearing his robe over his uniform was far more detrimental to his concentration than warm air would have been! Jim smiled at the memory.

 _I won the battle that night, as I recall,_ Spock said fondly through the bond, easily sensing Kirk’s thoughts. 

_But I won the war,_ Jim countered with a sleepy grin, as he pulled on a soft t-shirt and some sleep shorts.

 _We both did,_ Spock said, gathering his meaning. 

Jim made his way over to Spock at the computer. The Vulcan was typing with one hand and running his fingers idly through his dark, shower-damp hair with the other. Jim had never seen Spock do that before. During the day, his first officer’s hair was always neatly locked in place with whatever stiff hair product he used to create the style worn by most Vulcan men. Jim was curious what Spock’s post-shower hair felt like. He’d never seen it like that, rumpled and loose. 

Spock read his mind and invited him to touch it.

Stepping behind his bondmate, Jim ran his fingers through the soft black hair and smiled. Each strand was thick like a cord. It felt amazing to touch. He ran his fingers from nape to crown and swept upward from Spock’s temples over his pointed ears. It was a lovely sensation for both of the lovers. Jim planted a kiss on the top of Spock’s head when he finished and laid his cheek on the damp hair, draping his arms around Spock’s neck.

“I trust I can borrow your synthesizer in the morning for some _isach khlupau,_ ” Spock said aloud.

Jim now knew that was Vulcan for hair lacquer. “Of course,” he said. 

He pictured Spock going up to the bridge with his hair like it was now and the crew’s reaction. Through the bond (and through his scalp) Spock could feel Jim smiling.

Kirk moved his hands to Spock’s shoulders and began kneading them through the plush fabric of the blue robe. Being allowed to touch Spock however he wanted was heaven. “I’m so happy, Spock,” he murmured through a contented yawn.

“As am I,” Spock replied as he reached to shut off the computer. 

“Finish if you like, Spock. It’s fine,” Jim said through another yawn.

“No. It can wait. It is time for me to keep my word to Dr. McCoy and ensure the captain obeys his medical orders.”

Jim smirked a fond smirk. 

“I have moved our morning meeting with the department heads from 07:00 to 09:00 to afford you 8.5 hours of sleep, the human optimum for your sex and age group,” Spock informed him.

Kirk smiled appreciatively. “I haven’t had an uninterrupted eight hours sleep all month.”

“Then it is time,” Spock stated logically. He rose from the chair and took Jim’s hand.

Jim let Spock lead him to the bed as _he_ had done with Spock earlier. This time, though, their only agenda was sleep. Oh, it was going to feel so good. Spock acknowledged his own fatigue. It had been an excessively stressful two days, physically and emotionally, for both of them.

Jim fell into bed, exhausted. Spock turned off the lights, removed his robe, and slid between the sheets in his borrowed pajamas. They were slightly loose and a couple of inches too short, but felt oh, so perfect.

 _Sleep, Jim,_ Spock whispered lovingly to his bondmate’s mind, as they settled comfortably into the clean bed. After a solid night’s rest, his captain’s injuries on Verona 3 would truly be behind him. Spock pulled up the covers and curled protectively around him, their heads resting upon Jim’s single pillow. This was exactly where both of them had longed to be. Spock sighed and pulled Jim in closer, pressing his chest to his lover’s back. He offered a gentle goodnight kiss to the back of Jim’s neck, even though he sensed he was already asleep.

Holding Jim like this gave Spock the feeling that he could protect him always. Even as he savored the feeling, though, his logical mind began calculating the odds that Jim would never again be in a life-threatening situation: 58.2 to 1. Factoring in their new bond, however, led Spock to a much more welcome figure… his ability to protect Jim from danger had increased by 87.9%! Their telepathic rapport would boost his ability to communicate, locate, and coordinate with Jim. Whenever his captain was lost, he could find him. Whenever he was hurt or threatened, Spock would know. This gave him comfort. 

He pictured the craggy mountains of Gol on Vulcan. How could he have ever pictured himself going there, enduring the rigors of the Kolinahr? For what? To purge the best part of himself, the part that loved Jim? No, that idea was dead. His lifelong search for mental serenity and peace was over. It ended with Jim’s love, not in the mountains of Gol. He smiled against the back of Kirk’s neck. _Thank you for saving me, t’hy’la,_ he whispered to his sleeping mind like a prayer.

As the mountains of Gol faded from his mind, Spock slid toward slumber picturing tomorrow with Jim. He knew that when his captain woke in the morning, Jim would grace him with a beautiful smile, touch his hand at breakfast, and do all of the dozens of endearing things he always did throughout the workday. They would be blue and gold together, a stronger team than they’d ever been, and tomorrow evening would find them back here in each other’s arms. 

Every night from now on they would be together, sharing intimate delights of the mind and the flesh that Spock was only beginning to imagine. He sighed as he felt himself drift further toward sleep. He couldn’t remember ever feeling this relaxed. The comforting hum of their new bond harmonized with the familiar thrum of the Enterprise’s engines, and they both slept sounder than they had in a long time.

 _  
The_ _End_


End file.
